


Saving the Boy

by Embracing_Immensity



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: 74th Hunger Games, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, mentoring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-03
Updated: 2012-10-17
Packaged: 2017-11-15 13:41:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 22
Words: 90,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/527915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Embracing_Immensity/pseuds/Embracing_Immensity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Katniss Everdeen became a Victor at 13 years old.  Three years later someone she never wanted to see chosen is reaped.  Now she is determined to do whatever she can to bring the boy home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Boy and the Reaping

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not owe the Hunger Games or 90 percent of the characters in this story. This is simply written for entertainment purposes only and in no way meant to ignore copyright laws. 
> 
> And yes, this was originally posted on ff.net.

 

I sit up in bed, my heart pounding in my throat. I try to pry myself from the nightmare that seems unwilling to let me go.

"Breathe, Katniss," I tell myself harshly. " _Breathe_."

And I do. Slowly, shakily, I take in deep breaths and release them. As I find my heart rate settling, I catch a glimpse of myself in the large mirror hanging above my dresser.  
My prep team were going to have their work cut out for them this morning. Last night was particularly gruesome, but that wasn't a surprise, considering what today was.

It’s a big, big, big day, as Effie was so fond of saying, but I never could see reaping day as anything other than a horror waiting to happen. Especially after last year’s…

No. I will not think about that; he wouldn’t have wanted me to dwell on it. Besides, there’s nothing I can do about him, and there is something so much more pressing demanding my full attention.

In spite of wishing to spend the rest of the day in bed, I know that would be impossible and dangerous. I have a job to do and I am determined to do it well. I will not give him any reason to become upset with me again. My lesson was learned.

I slip out of my room into the hallway, noticing that Prim was not in hers. She probably snuck into our mother’s room last night, looking for comfort. I feel a pang at that thought. I used to be the one that she turned to when the nightmares came, but it had been years since then. Not since… Well, not since we moved into the house in Victor’s Village three years ago.

A shrill noise coming from downstairs makes me jump and it takes a few seconds to realize that it’s the phone ringing. A growing dread comes over me as I approach it. There are few people that I know with access to a telephone and even fewer that I would like it to be on the other line.

I pick up the phone, knowing it would be best to just get it over with. “Hello?”

“What are you wearing?”

I have to laugh. Leave it Finnick to make me laugh even on a day like today. “You are terrible.”

His voice drops to an octave to his trademark seduction tone. “There’s not a stitch of clothing on me.”

“Finnick!”

He chuckles, dropping the act that so many women have fallen for. “Good morning, I was just calling to check up on you.”

“You know me.”

Suddenly he’s serious. “I do. Another nightmare?” I don’t speak but he takes my silence as an affirmation. “What about Prim, how’s she doing?”

“I don’t know, I haven’t seen her yet,” I tell him. “But it’s her first reaping, so I can imagine how she’s feeling.”

His voice is reassuring, or at least it is trying to be. “Prim is going to be fine. She won’t get reaped.”

“How do you know?”

“Because she only has one slip, Katniss. The odds are in her favor.”

“You know as well as I do that sometimes it isn’t up to luck who gets chosen.” Finnick stays quiet and I continue, “Remember last year? That wasn’t chance, that was a _punishment_.”

“You’re right.” That’s what I love about Finnick; he is always honest with me, no matter what. “But you have done nothing to be punished for since then.”

“Are you sure?”

“You have been a perfect Victor all year. And you know if you had upset someone in the Capitol, I would have known about it.”

This was true. Finnick was always in the know, and he had been the one who had warned be about the consequences of my actions last year. I hadn’t listened to him then; such a fool I had been.

I need to change the topic and definitely not to the one that Finnick probably wanted to talk about next. “How’s Annie? Do you think she’ll be able to get to the Capitol this year?”

“Katniss…” Finnick’s tone is weary; he knows what I am doing, but he plays along. “She won’t even be at the reaping. Mags will take her place, again.”

“That’s too bad. I love Mags, but I haven’t seen Annie in a while. I had been hoping to spend some time catching up with her.”

Finnick has had enough. “You wouldn’t have had time for it, anyway. I know you don‘t want to talk about it, but you need to listen to me. You’re sixteen, now, which means you’re fair game and I know that Snow’s has a lot of buyers lining up to take advantage of that.”

I feel the bile rising in my throat. It takes me a few seconds to respond and even then I can barely recognize my voice. “I don’t know if I can do it.”

“You will. Because you still have people you love and want to protect from Snow’s vengeance. Think of Prim and you’ll be surprised by how much you can endure.”

I nod, in spite of the fact that I know he can’t see me. “Think of Prim.”

“And cheer up,” he says, suddenly reverting to his usual jovial tone. “Reaping day means that you, once again, get to be in my presence.”

I can‘t stop the turn of my lips. “Thank you, Odair. You truly are the one bright spot in my meager existence.”

I can imagine his sea green eyes twinkling in the early morning light. “And don’t you forget it.”

“Give Annie my love.”

“Will do and wish Prim luck for me. And Katniss?”

“Yeah?”

“Wear something pretty, okay? You know, something to distract from your ever-present scowl?”

I hang up on him without saying goodbye and turn to find my sister standing there silently. I nearly jump out of my skin.

I clutch my chest. “Prim! You scared me!”

She lowers her head apologetically. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to. Who were you talking to?”

I wrap my arms around her. “It was just Finnick. He was just being his usual annoying self. He did wish you luck, though.”

My little sister’s eyes light up at the mention of his name. Much to my chagrin, Prim has developed quite a large crush on the man. “He did? I can’t believe it! I can‘t wait to tell Lesse. Oh! She is going to be sooo jealous!”

I have to smile at that. That’s two Everdeen girls he’s managed to distract today, even for a short while; I remind myself to thank him for it when I see him. He’ll probably want something outlandish and ridiculous, but it will be worth it. But for now, I need to get dressed and out the door if I want to make sure I finish all my errands before my team shows up.

\---  
The smell of the warm cheese buns makes my mouth water, but I have a few more stops to make before I head back home. It still feels odd to be able to walk into a store empty handed and walk out with what I want. It used to be that I had to trade game for bread, but that was before the fence leading out of the District was electrified 24 hours a day and patrolled more often. Now I get my meat from the butcher and I make my purchases with coin instead. It’s not as good as what I was used to, but it wasn’t like there was any other choice.

It’s not like I am _allowed_ many choices any more.

As I make my way out of the square with my purchases, I am, once again, saddened by the transformation it has gone through in three short years; all because of me and my actions. What once used to be one the few pleasant places of District 12 was converted in to a collection of reminders of the Capitol’s increased attention on us. Instruments of punishments litter the streets with an increased number of Peacekeepers keeping an eye on the populace. Of course, no one blames me outright, as I am sure that fear keeps people quiet; but every now and again I get a seething glare or a silent accusation from people I pass on the street.

Once I enter the Seam, I am struck by how much I miss living there. My old house didn’t have any of the luxuries that the one in the Victor’s Village has, but at least it felt like a home. But now, in my luxurious clothes made by my friend and personal stylist, Cinna, I feel like an outsider here.

I quicken my pace and arrive at the Hawthorne household in no time. Hazelle greets me warmly, wrapping her arms around me for a long hug, and for just a single moment I almost forget that I killed her son. But then the whole horrible memory hits me and I have to look away from her in shame.

As I hand her some meat that I bought at the butcher shop, I apologize, again, that it is not as fresh as what she had been used to, knowing that she would understand what I mean by that. Hazelle shakes her head at this and gives me a small smile. “Thank you, Katniss, but you know that you don’t have to keep doing this.”

“Yes, I do!” I have to force myself to keep myself from crying. “I have more money than I know what to do with and there’s nothing I would rather spend it on than on you and your family.”

“It’s not your responsibility and-”

I cut her off afraid of not being to keep myself together if she kept talking. “I promised Gale that I would take care of you. That I would make sure that Rory never had sign up for tesserae. I couldn’t keep him alive in the arena, but I can at least keep his family from starving!”

Hazelle grabs my shoulders and gives me a shake. I keep my head down and she gives me another shake and I lift my eyes. “Now, you listen to me; it’s not your fault that Gale was reaped and it definitely wasn’t your fault that he died. You need to stop blaming yourself for his death.”

She was wrong, of course, but what could I say? President Snow had made it very clear to me that chance had played no part in Gale’s reaping; instead it had be perfectly orchestrated as a consequence to my actions. And once it became obvious that he actually had a good shot of winning, the Gamemakers released muttations that were trained to track and kill him. No, of course I couldn’t tell Hazelle that. That information could put her in danger; and she was in enough of that just by associating with me. Besides, I couldn’t risk her shutting me out of their lives. I would never get to see Rory or Vick or even little Posy ever again; and I wouldn’t have been able to handle that. They were all I had left of Gale. Selfish, I know, but I have never claimed to be noble. No Victor could ever claim to be.

So I just nod, for once knowing the best course of action is to keep my mouth shut. Thankfully, Hazelle nods herself and places a kiss on my forehead. “You take care of yourself in the Capitol, okay? Don‘t let them make you forget who you are and where you came from. They can‘t control you.”

“I know,” I tell her but that’s a lie. They do own me and that’s why in a few short weeks, when the Hunger Games are over, I’ll be auctioned off and sold to the highest bidder and I won’t do a thing to stop it. “I’ll make sure that Prim keeps up with the deliveries while I’m gone.”

We say our goodbyes and I head back towards Victor’s Village. A quick stop at Haymitch to make sure he’s all right and I’ll head home. I let myself in and nearly gag at the stench. I hold my breath as I search for my former mentor. It doesn’t take long to find him sitting at the kitchen table, unconscious with his head in a pool of vomit-scented drool. I have tried to rouse Haymitch so many times before that I already know the only thing that will work is water.

I dump the basin full of icy cold water over his head and hide under the table. A smart plan considering Haymitch’s habit of sleeping with a knife. The same one he is currently swinging around widely shouting obscenities. I wait for him to settle down before I reveal myself from my hiding spot.

“You,” he seethes. “Why did you do that?”

“Because it’s the only way to wake you up.”

He glares at me, droplets of water dripping from his hair. “I didn’t ask you to wake me up.”

I back away from him, hands up in surrender. “No, but I figured you preferred me waking you up instead of Effie.”

Apparently that wasn’t good enough of a reason because he’s still shooting daggers at me when suddenly, as if on cue, we hear Effie coming into the house. Her heels clack on the floor as she makes her way into the kitchen.

“Oh!” She stops short when she sees me, her atrocious pink curls moving stiffly. “Katniss, what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be with your team, getting ready? It’s a-”

“Big, big, big day, I know. I was just dropping off some bread for Haymitch.” I make a big show of setting some loaves on the table, trying my best to keep them as far from the puddle of saliva as possible. “And I’m done. Guess I’ll go home now; you two have fun.”

I feel his stare all the way out of the kitchen and I can’t help chuckling a bit to myself. And then I remember what I have waiting for me at my house and suddenly the situation loses all of its humor.

\----  
Hours later, after some truly torturous time with my prep team, I was deemed worthy for public viewing and sent on my way back to the square. The reaping is set to start at two, but I was expected there a half-hour before that, leaving me little time to scarf down a pair of cheese buns before heading out the door. As I climb onto the stage and take my seat by Effie, I am unsurprised to see that Haymitch is missing.

Seated on the other side is Mayor Undersee, who acknowledges my arrival with a small nod. We share a sad look, neither of us really enjoying the festivities of the reaping. I glance out over the children and find Rory and Prim standing close to each other smiling and laughing about something.

_Please, please… Please not them._

I look away from the lot of the potential tributes before me. One girl and one boy would be chosen and they would probably be dead by the end of the month; and there was nothing that I could do about it.

The minutes passed slowly as the square filled up to capacity and it’s a few minutes before two, when Haymitch finally staggers to the stage and falls into the chair next to me.

I shoot him a glance. “So nice of you to join us.”

He doesn‘t even glance my way. “Don’t start with me, Sweetheart. I still haven’t forgiven you for the water this morning. Or for leaving me with that infernal woman, for that matter.”

At least he’s sober, a huge improvement over how he was the day that I was reaped. He had been so drunk that he had thrown up all over Effie’s shoes and then fallen off the stage and knocked himself out. He had not instilled me with much confidence back then, but now I know better.

I look up with dread when the town clock strikes two, signaling the start of the ceremony. Mayor Undersee walks up to the podium the read the history of Panem. Every year we have to suffer through it and even though we can almost recite the thing by heart, we all try to pretend to listen.

“It is both a time for repentance and a time for thanks,” he says, reaching the end of the speech and begins reading the list of past victors from District 12. There have been 73 previous Hunger Games and we have a list of three names. Only two of us are still alive- Haymitch and me. In other districts, like 1,2, or even 4, the lists are much longer and more time-consuming. But now he’s introducing Effie and we can get right into what I have been dreading for the past month.

“Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favor!” She waits a second to see if the crowd would respond back to her, but we don’t. And perhaps she should finally realize that we never will. Her smile looks slightly strained but she continues rambling about who knows what because it is difficult to understand over my heart pounding in my ears. But I force myself to calm down because the next few things she says are going to be very important.

“Ladies first!” Effie announces as she does every year and then she crosses over to the area where two identical large glass balls are located; one for the girls and one for the boys. Each of the clear orbs are filled with thousands of slips, each of them printed with the name of a 12 to 18 year old who is at the moment, silently wishing not to get chosen. And among those thousands there is one, singular slip with the name Primrose Everdeen on it.

_Please, please, not her._

Effie reaches into the glass ball with the girl names in it and starts reaching around. She giggles as moves her hand around before clutching a slip. This is the same routine every year and I hate her for it. Slowly and deliberately she pulls her arm out and makes her way back to the microphone.

I have to control myself not to rip that pink wig off her head for taking her time with this. Being from the Capitol, she had no idea what kind of torture it is for us and I have to remind myself that Effie is just a player in a much larger game that we all have our part to play.

But still, if she doesn’t hurry up, I am going to tear that paper away from her and read it myself.

Finally, she reaches the microphone and opens the slip. A deep breath from her and I’m hoping against hope that it is not my little sister’s name.

“Misu Teeyer!”

And it’s not Prim. I see Mayor Undersee sigh in relief, probably thankful that it hadn’t been his daughter, Madge, and I feel a tinge of guilt that I had forgotten all about her. I look for her in the section of sixteen year olds and we meet eyes. She smiles and I nod and I am grateful that my only real friend in the district wasn’t called. Haymitch reaches over and gives my hand a reassuring squeeze.

And as I happy I am that it wasn’t Prim or Madge, I can’t help but feel sorry because it was somebody. Misu Teeyer was somebody who had a family and friends and would most probably never see those she loved again. But to her credit, she does not cry as she makes her way to stage. I don’t know her personally, but I had seen her plenty while I was growing up in the Seam. I know she’s 18 (the age Gale would have been this year had he survived), and fatherless, and possessing of a large number of younger siblings she had to take care of. She stands stiffly by Effie who warbles on about what a great honor it is to be chosen.

Effie asks if anyone would like to volunteer for her spot in the Games. Her only answer is the silence from the crowd. That wasn’t really shocking to anyone. No one ever volunteers in District 12, not when it is akin to suicide.

But no matter, Effie’s already off heading towards the glass ball with the boys names. Again, she takes her time drawing a name and my heart is pounding still, hoping for the safety of Gale’s younger brother.

And there she is at the microphone again, the small paper slip in her hand. She reads it and leans into the microphone. “Peeta Mellark.”

My body grows cold and I have to bite my lip to keep from screaming.


	2. The Boy with the Bread

 

Peeta Mellark! Of all the boys in District 12, why did he have to get chosen? The Hunger Games were never fair, but _this_?

Peeta moves through the crowd and climbs up to the stage, his face showing the shock he must be feeling. He takes his place besides Misu and he faces the crowd. When asked, no one volunteers for him even though I know that he has an older brother who could… no, SHOULD take his place.

With that out of the way, the mayor makes his way to the podium for the annual reading of the mind-numbingly long Treaty of Treason, but I can’t hear a word that he’s saying. All I can see is the boy with the ashen blond hair and broad shoulders standing before me. I wish I could see his face, see his too blue eyes, but the view of his strong back will have to suffice. His stance is steady but I also see that his hands are curled into fists at his sides.

I feel myself tear up but I refuse to let them fall. I blink rapidly, try to put on a mask of stoic indifference just in case a camera focuses on me. The last thing I need is for the Capitol to exploit something I am not sure I completely understand just yet. I glance at Haymitch from the corner of my eye to see if he’s noticed anything and find that he is staring at me.

Oh great, we’re going to be talking about this later.

\----  
After the reading of the Treaty of Treason, Mayor Undersee has the two tributes shake hands and for a second Peeta and I lock eyes. I feel myself dangerously close to crying and I am saved by the playing of the anthem of Panem.

Once that is over I watch as Peeta and Misu are surrounded by a group of Peacekeepers and led to the Justice Building, where they will be allowed a few moments to say goodbye to those they love. The crowd begins to file out and go back to their normal lives but I continue to sit on the stage, not really knowing what to do.

“So you wanna tell me what the hell all that was about, Sweetheart?” Apparently, Haymitch decided that he was going to stick around, too.

“What are you talking about?”

“Who’s the boy?”

I try to give him a disinterested shrug. “He’s our tribute or weren’t you paying attention?”

One look at him is enough for me to know that he isn’t buying it. “I saw your face when his name was called. It looked remarkably similar to the one you wore last year when it was Gale who was reaped.”

I don’t want to think about Gale, not now. “We were in school together, until I got reaped, of course.”

“And that’s it?”

I look Haymitch in the eyes and shake my head.

His look of suspicion softens. “I didn’t think so. You know that you can talk to me, right?”

“I know, Haymitch,” I sigh. He should know the story if I was to have any chance of keeping Peeta alive in the arena. “He gave me bread.”

His eyebrows shoot up. “Isn’t he the baker’s kid?”

“Yes.”

“This might be difficult for you to hear, but I am pretty certain that he gave bread to a lot of people.”

I glower at him. “Do you want to know or not?”

“I’m sorry, go ahead.”

And so I tell him. My father died in an explosion in the coal mines when I was 11. My family had been given a small amount of coin that was supposed to have fed us for a month while we mourned my father’s death and then my mother was supposed to have found a way to support us. Except she didn’t, and our money ran out which meant so did our food. My mother grieved my father and ignored Prim and me as we slowly starved to death.

Knowing we had little time left, I decided to try and sell some of Prim’s old baby clothes but that hadn’t turned out very well for me. It was raining and I was starving and wasn’t sure if I was going to make it through the night. As a last resort I decided to go check the trash bins of the vendors in the square but they had been emptied recently. The butcher’s, the grocer’s, and even the bakery’s had been cleared. It was at the bakery, however, that I was discovered rooting through the trash by the baker’s witch of a wife.

She howled at me and threatened to call the Peacekeeper on me and threw out some nasty, hurtful words that would have brought me to tears had I not already shed all the ones I was capable of for that time. I started backing away slowly and that’s when I saw him. He was watching me from behind his mother and I recognized as being in the same year as me. But he was from town, and I was from the Seam, and we hadn’t had any interaction because of that.

When I was at a respectable distance away, the baker’s wife went back into the bakery. I continued moving away until I was near an apple tree that was behind their pigpen. Realizing that I was going to have to go home empty-handed, I have to admit that I lost it there. That’s when I heard a commotion going on inside the bakery and I barely had time to register what was going on before I noticed the boy heading out of the bakery with his mother yelling at him.

From my position I could see the burnt loaves in his arms and the angry red patch that stood out oh-so-clearly on his pale cheek. Apparently, the witch didn’t reserve her anger just for Seam brats digging around in her trash. I saw her disappear back inside, but not before saying something nasty towards her son.

He looked behind him towards the bakery and then towards the pig. And then he did something I didn’t expect; he threw the first loaf of bread in my direction. At first I thought that he had made a mistake until he threw the second loaf towards me as well. He didn’t even glance at me and turned away and trudged through the wet earth back to the bakery.

I took the bread and brought them home where Prim, my mother, and I filled our empty stomachs and for the first time in weeks I went to bed without that hollow feeling that I had almost gotten used to.

Haymitch was quiet as I recounted my story, but now I was done. “So what you’re telling me is that he saved your life.”

I nod at him. “Yeah, you can say that. But his kindness didn‘t end there.”

“Of course it didn’t.”

“Apparently, when I got reaped, Peeta took it upon himself to make sure that Prim had enough to eat. I didn’t find out until much later because Prim had been sworn to secrecy, but apparently, Peeta would give Prim a small loaf of bread every day that I was gone. I hadn‘t even thanked him for the first time he took care of us and he still took it upon himself to make sure that my sister stayed fed while I was gone. And now he‘s going to the arena and I‘m never going to be able to make it up to him!”

“You will.”

“How?” I cry.

“You’ll make sure he comes home.”

“You say that like it’s so easy. Do I need to remind you of the four tributes that I failed to bring home or how about the 45 that you did?”

“Easy there, Sweetheart, there’s no need to get nasty.”

“I couldn’t even bring Gale home and you know that he was very capable!”

He frowns at me. “You know as well as I do that there was no way to save Gale.  
He never had a chance.”

This was true; I had personally signed his death sentence when I had not made an appearance at Snow’s birthday celebration. I was in a fit of pique from being forced to go to the Capitol and having to miss Gale’s birthday and decided to just skip the event. It would have been a scandal but Finnick and Haymitch and even Johanna had covered for me; but Snow had still seen it as a personal attack.

I had been lost in thought and Haymitch brings me back into the moment by making me face him again. “The boy-”

“Peeta,” I correct. “His name is Peeta.”

“You’re right,” he acquiesces. He takes my arm and pulls me from my chair. He continues as he starts leading me off the stage, “Peeta being reaped was unfortunate, but at least that is all it was, bad luck. We can work with that.”

“You’re right.” That’s when I notice my fellow mentor’s dark expression. “What’s wrong, Haymitch?”

He stops and looks at me, his eyes sad. “I just hope you understand what you are signing up for by choosing to save him. Don‘t forget that we were given two people to help in that arena.”

Oh, _that_. “I know. It was horrible last year when I realized that I was going to put all my effort into bring Gale home.”

“Last year we were given a frightened twig of a girl who we both knew would never make it past the initial bloodbath,” he reminds me. And it was true, she had been 14 and small for her age with no skills and no chance. “But this year, Misu; she’s different. She’s a survivor.”

I raise an eyebrow. “You learned her name quickly.”

“I didn’t have to learn her name, I already knew it. Her father, before he died, was a… I was acquainted with him.”

I lower my gaze, ashamed. “I’m sorry.”

“She reminds me a lot of you. You both had children to take care of and did what you needed to make sure that they were fed. Except you were lucky, you had your ability to hunt to help you. Misu had to use _other_ methods.”

I stay silent for a while, waiting for him to continue; to explain what he meant by that, but he doesn’t. “Tell me.”

“You remember the old Head Peacekeeper?”

“You mean the one the one day mysteriously disappeared and left us with Thread? Yeah, I remember him. Cray, right?”

He nods and I get the distinct feeling that there’s something that he wants me to remember about the former Head Peacekeeper. Let’s see… He had been on the older side, with a growing shortage of silver hair on his head. He used to drink a lot; almost as much as Haymitch, but not quite. He was considerably nicer than Thread is but I had never liked him much. Ol’ Cray had always made my skin crawl, ever since I learned about his habit of convincing starving girls to give themselves to him in exchange for some coin…

For a moment there, I am afraid that the cheese buns will make a reappearance but I choke it back. “She sold herself to him?”

“She did what she thought she had to.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“I’m telling you this because I want you to know the girl that you are choosing to get killed to save your baker’s son. I want to make sure that the price is something you are willing to pay, because, make no mistake, you are going to have to pay to ensure his victory, Sweetheart.”

“I know what the price is and I’ll pay it.”

“Are you sure? Because you know what’s expected of you this year. Just a few seconds ago you were judging the actions of a desperate starving girl and at least Cray was mostly a nice guy.”

Well, hello again, cheese buns. How nice to remake your acquaintance. I turn away from the mess and square my shoulders. The aftertaste is disgusting but I find it oddly fitting for this conversation. “I’m sure.”

Haymitch puts his arm around my shoulders and gives me a small squeeze; it’s as comforting as he’s going to get but that is more than I need from him. And with that, he guides me away from the former contents of my stomach. “Well, let’s go. We have a train to catch.”

\-------  
Sometime later, on the train racing towards the Capitol, I find myself really thinking about the boy with the bread. Before that horrible night in the rain, I had barely noticed him. I mean, I had seen him around school but he hadn’t exactly made an impression on me.

After that night, I wouldn’t exactly say that things changed. I was certainly more aware of Peeta’s presence, but it wasn’t like I sought him out or anything. Every so often, when I did notice him, I would try to gather my courage to go to him and thank him for the bread but I never knew the proper words that would convey how I truly felt so I didn’t even bother to try.

It wasn’t until I came back from the Games that everything was different; which made sense, I suppose, since I, myself, was different. I felt myself drawn to him, driven by a need to thank him. Not just for the night with the burnt loaves but for also having eyes the same color as the patch of wildflowers that had led me to a clean water source when I was dying of thirst in the arena. But how could I explain to him the immensity of my gratitude? I, who hates owing people, kept racking up a debt with him that I could never repay.

And when Prim finally broke down and told me about Peeta’s hand in making sure my family ate while I was gone, I was completely undone. My feelings of gratitude expanded and compressed and stretched and collapsed and transformed into something I couldn‘t understand. It didn’t help that I was a Victor and as such I was no longer required to go to school. Suddenly, my only chance at seeing him was at the bakery or just happening to be at the square as he made his way home.

No one ever wondered why I waited until the afternoons to make my purchases at the bakery.

There’s a soft knock on the door to my room; it’s Effie coming to tell me that it’s time for dinner. I thank her and she flits away in the direction of the tributes’ rooms. I head to the dinning room and I’m surprised to find Peeta Mellark already seated at the table. I blink in surprise, I hadn’t expected to be alone with Peeta. At least not so soon and without any chance to prepare myself.

“Hello,” he greets me politely. He lowers his gaze to his hands that are fiddling with a napkin that probably cost more that his family makes in a month.

“Hello,” I echo because I am not sure I can come up with anything else. I choose a seat across from him, knowing that I wouldn’t be able to sit beside him.

We sit in silence until Effie reappears with Misu in tow. The younger girl flops down in a seat next to Peeta and watches with a scowl as Effie takes her place beside her.

“Where’s Haymitch?” Misu asks, scanning the room.

“He’s taking a nap,” Effie says but we both know that’s not true. We both have taken this trip with Haymitch enough times to know that he’s drinking himself into oblivion tonight. It’s a tradition of sorts, he told me once; he drinks in remembrance of all those who have left us and then he drinks to forget them all.

Good. Our tributes this year are smart because I can immediately tell that neither one believed Effie’s story. Misu shakes her head and rolls her eyes while Peeta gives Effie a suspicious look but he doesn’t say anything.

Our first course is served, a creamy potato soup with bits of bacon and cheese swimming in it. Misu forgoes using any utensils and just grabs her bowl and slurps the whole thing down in seconds.

Effie’s jaw drops as she stares at Misu. Well, there goes any chance at the two being friends. I manage to stifle a laugh, knowing that having Effie annoyed with me won’t make anything easier.

“Misu,” I say, getting her attention. She wipes her face with the back of her hand, earning a gasp from Effie. “I know how good the food is, but it’s really rich, so you should take it easy.”

“Thanks, but I think I can handle it,” she tells me.

“She was trying to make sure you don’t get sick,” Peeta says quietly without looking up from his bowl. “Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to listen to her. She’s your mentor, after all.”

That earns him a glare. “If you like her so much why don’t you take her as a mentor and I’ll take Haymitch. _He_ managed to get someone home. She couldn’t even save her boyfriend.”

I see Peeta swallow hard at that and I have inexplicable urge to set the story straight. “Gale wasn’t my boyfriend!”

He looks at me at that, his expression unreadable. Misu, on the other hand, scoffs. “Right. That’s believable.”

“It should be. There was nothing going on between Gale and me; we were friends, nothing more.”

“Well then, it was her _friend_ that got ripped apart last year. I hear that he had to be shipped back in several boxes because how long it took to find the pieces of him. And he still had bits missing!"  Misu is shouting now, her features contorted by barely contained rage and loathing... Rage and loathing that is being directely solely at me.

“Enough!” Peeta’s standing now pointing at Misu. “Whatever he was to her, she obviously cared about him and you’re saying these things just to be hurtful so just stop, okay?”

Misu and Peeta stare at each other for a second before she backs down. “Fine, I won’t say another thing about it. You know what’s funny? I thought that she was supposed to be protecting you, not the other way around.”

He sets his jaw but doesn’t respond to her. I watch as he sits back down and goes back to eating his soup and I realize that this has not gone well at all. I am not sure if either of my tributes will be able to consider me much of a mentor after this.

We manage to get through most of the meal in silence, with Misu continually disregarding my advice. But once the last of the plates have been cleared, I can’t help feeling a tiny bit of satisfaction at the look of nausea on her face.

Effie claps her hands. “Shall we go then?”

“Go where?” Peeta asks, seeming fine. I couldn’t help but notice that he didn’t gorge himself during the meal.

“We’re going to watch the recaps of the reapings,” I tell him, determined to portray myself as a mentor.

“And why would we want to do that?” Of course Misu would be contrary. I now find it very offensive that Haymitch said that she reminded him of me. I will make sure he knows that tomorrow when I dump a gallon of ice water on his head.

Effie stutters as if unsure how to respond. “But its’- I mean, you- That is, there’s- I think-”

I interrupt. “It’s a good chance to get a first look at your competition.”

She shrugs and I noticed that she looks a little green, but she fights through it. “Well, I think I’ll pass. If anything interesting happens, I’m sure you’ll let me know in the morning.”

I don’t object to her leaving as she was getting on my nerves, anyway; in the morning she can be Haymitch’s problem.

The three of us make our way to a different compartment, one with a television. Peeta takes a seat beside me and gives me a ghost of a smile before we turn our attention to the screen. I remember when I was in his place, watching all the kids who would be trying to kill me once we got to the arena. It was a horrible feeling and without thinking I take ahold of Peeta’s hand. His smile widens but he doesn’t look at me; he does, however, squeeze my hand in what I can guess is gratitude.

I pay close attention to the reapings, seeing what the competition will be like this year. A few tributes make an impact right off. A beautiful blond girl from District 1, a mountain of a boy from District 2, and the little girl from 11 who barely looks old enough to be eligible. She reminds me so much of Prim that my heart aches but I tell myself that I can’t get attached to her, not if I’m going to save Peeta.

As the program ends and the seal of Panem replaces the faces of the 24 competitors of the Hunger Games, I feel Peeta slump down in his seat beside me. That’s when I realize that we are still holding hands.

“Are you okay?”

He doesn’t even glance my way, instead he looks down; and then, as if noticing our entwined hands, he begins disentangling himself from me. “I just don’t know how I’m going to do it.”

He doesn’t have to clarify because I know exactly what he means. “I felt the same way when I was in your position.”

“Really?” Peeta asks and I nod. “How… how did you…?

“It wasn’t easy. But eventually, I thought about my mother and Prim and I decided that I had to fight to win for them. And I did everything I could to make sure that I was the one that came out of that arena.”

“And what if I don’t have anything to come back to?”

Peeta, the boy with the bread that saved me, sounds so dejected that I feel my heart break for him. “Then you fight for me. You do what you need to make sure that I don’t have to bury another tribute.”

“Fight for you…” he says as if he’s considering it. Suddenly his eyes lock on to mine and I’m lost in blue oblivion. He pulls me out of it with a simple sentence, “Yeah, I could do that.”

 


	3. The Boy that Gets Interrupted

 

I don’t know how long we sat there staring into each other’s eyes when Effie clears her throat and stands up. I look away from Peeta, embarrassed to have been caught in what felt to be such an intimate moment.

I turn to face Effie, who so patiently waits until she has both of our attentions, before she speaks. “Well, I should be off to bed. You know, Peeta, we have a big, big, big day tomorrow, so you should get plenty of sleep. You wouldn’t want to be all cranky and tired when we get to the Capitol.”

“No, of course not,” he agrees, but I can tell he is just trying to humor her . “Good night, Effie.”

“Oh! Such good manners! Not at all like that other one.” Her face, which had been flushed with pleasure at Peeta’s politeness, darkens considerably when she mentions Misu. I am not surprised that Effie is not a fan of our girl but it feels strange that after so many years of knowing her, we finally have something we can agree on. Her ill mood doesn’t last long and she brightens up as she heads off, sending us a wave. “Well, then good night you two. Don‘t stay up too late.”

Immediately, silence fills the space left by Effie’s absence and I stare at the television to cover up any discomfort and almost instantly regret it. With the recaps over, the programming switched over to an segment with the previous year’s winner. On the screen there’s Berer Lect being interviewed about the upcoming Hunger Games; what he thinks of the competitors, who he thinks will win, how many will not make it past the initial bloodbath, etc.

They do this every year, as a final reminder that one Hunger Game doesn’t not truly end until a new one begins. And for Berer Lect, this will be his last bit of attention that he will receive. For he is not quite so striking as Cashmere, or as charming as Finnick, or even as memorable as Johanna-- in truth, he is rather unremarkable all around. And because of that, tomorrow he will go back to being one of the forgotten Victors; those not even worthy enough to become mentors.

And I couldn’t be more jealous.

“I’m sorry,” Peeta says softly, snapping me back to reality. I see that he has the control-remote in his hand and seems intent on shutting the television off. It is far more advanced than what he is probably used so it takes him pushing practically every other possible button before he finally finds the one that shuts the thing off. “I know it must be hard to see him. Because of Gale…”

“It is hard, but it’s not like he personally killed Gale. I am glad, however, that I won’t have to see him at the Games,” I say, choosing my words carefully. I am finding it difficult thinking about Gale in Peeta’s presence; I can’t put my finger on it, but it feels wrong and disloyal.

“What do you mean that you won’t see him at the Games. Won’t he be there, mentoring?”

I shake my head. “Had he been from another district, he probably would’ve been. But he’s from District 2 and mentoring the boys is Brutus’ job. And there’s no way that he is going to give up his spot willingly.”

Peeta makes a noise but I can’t quite decipher but when I look back at him, I find that his face has been wiped clean of any expressions. “So, Brutus must really enjoy the Capitol, then.”

“Either that or he just enjoys seeing his fellow Victors,” I say, knowing that it‘s a lie. Truth be told, I doubt that Brutus cares for anything other than the bloody brutality of the Games themselves.

Peeta looks at me, surprise etched on his face. “So, it’s true, then? That some of you are actually friends with each other? I always thought that was something exaggerated for the cameras.”

“No, it’s true. It’s actually pretty easy to form friendships with other Victors because they’re the only one who really understand what you went through. It’s refreshing to not need explanations and excuses. Now don’t get me wrong, there are some that I can’t even stand being in the same room with, but I can’t help but feel a kinship with them, as well. We all went into the arena where we fought to survive and then we made it out where we have to deal with surviving.”

He is quiet for a moment, his face a swirl of emotion, before he looks down at his hands. “That sounds… terrible.”

“It is,” I admit, wondering if I should have sugarcoated it. But then again, he’s going to be in the same position next year, so he might as well know the truth now. “But believe me, there are worse things.”

“I’m so sorry, Katniss.” His voice is so soft, that for a moment, I almost believe that I imagined it.

Needing to break the tension in the room, I give a wry chuckle. “You apologize for a lot of things that are not your fault, you know.”

He shrugs, but he still keeps his gaze on those big baker’s hands of his. “Maybe, you’re right, but I can’t help but feel…” He stops and stays silent for a few seconds before, “I just wish I could make it better for you.”

His words touch me in a way that I hadn’t experienced in a long time; not since my father died, at least. An unfamiliar warmth spreads from my chest and I can’t help the small smile that appears on my face. “You already have.”

He looks up and searches my eyes for- I don’t know, _something_. He must have found what he was looking for because he begins to smile. “There’s something that I want to say to you…”

“Yes?” I prompt.

But before he can say anything, we hear a loud noise right outside the compartment that makes us both jump. An attendant pokes his head in and apologizes for the disturbance and leaves us alone again, but it doesn’t matter. The interruption had been enough to break the spell.

I chuckle nervously. “So, you were saying?”

Peeta shakes his head and refuses to look at me. “I just wanted to tell you that I do trust you and I wouldn’t mind you mentoring me.”

I get the strange feeling that was not at all what he had wanted to say to me but I don’t push it. “Thank you. And if I’m honest, I would rather spend my time with you than with Misu.”

He laughs. “She does seem… difficult. But I’m sure that’s just an act because she’s scared.”

“Maybe you‘re right, but if she wants to get anywhere she’s going to have to cut the act and fast.”

“Well, it’s been a long day,” he says as he stands up from the couch. “And it sounds like I have an equally long one ahead of me tomorrow, so I guess I should try and get some sleep.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” I say, but the truth is that I don’t want him to go just yet. I’m curious about what he was going to say to me before we were startled; I can tell that it was something important. I was hoping that if we sat here long enough he might have just blurted it out.

But no such luck, because there he goes. I have the tiniest bit of hope that he’s changed his mind when he stops at the doorway leading out of the room and turns back to me. “You should get some sleep, too. You look tired.”

I touch my heavily made-up face, the result of my prep team’s work on me. “That’s funny. All this stuff on my face is supposed to cover that up.”

“They couldn’t hide your eyes,” he tells me and then he turns away from me. “Good night, Katniss.”

“Good night, Peeta,” I say to his back. He nods and steps out, leaving me with my thoughts. Spending time with him has just strengthened my resolve. I am now more determined than ever to make sure that Peeta is the one to survive the arena. I will do whatever it is that needs to be done to make sure that it happens.

\---------  
The next morning, I am less than pleased to see that I was the first to arrive at the dining room. The nightmare I had just awoken from hadn’t been a new one, but the addition of Peeta’s half-mangled corpse leading the rest of my accusers had made it seem like one. I was hoping that some company might force away the last bit gloom that the horrible sights left in the air.

Usually I would have been woken hours ago to get my hair and make up done, but not today. It was one of the few times a year that I wasn’t the one the cameras were trained on. Peeta and Misu were the stars right now, so I could get to be normal Katniss for the day. This was something I tended to relish, but today I was craving conversation (even the insipid chatter from Venia, Octavia, and Flavius) to get my mind off the horrible visions my subconscious conjured up.

I drop into the chair I had occupied the night before and suddenly there’s a plate of food in front of me; another server places a mug of hot chocolate and I immediately wrap my cold hands around it, warming them in the heat. Dreams of the dead always seem to drop my body temperature.

Haymitch stumbles into the dining room, drunk enough to keep the hangover at bay but sober enough to function; it’s a state that he seems to have perfected in the years since I won. He nearly trips on his way to the table, but thankfully recovers enough to avoid a fall.

“We missed you last night,” I tell him, watching him sit. “Your little Misu is quite a challenge.”

He laughs at this. “Too much like you?”

I scowl at him. “Hardly. She’s stubborn and opinionated and mean and just so infuriating!”

“So she’s exactly like you, you mean?” And then he starts laughing harder, enjoying the situation a little too much for my taste.

“Yes, yes. It’s all very funny,” I say. “You know what else is funny? Last night at dinner, she made it clear that she doesn’t want me to be her mentor. Apparently, she doesn’t trust me after what happened to Gale.”

The laughter stops all at once and suddenly Haymitch is the very picture of seriousness as he studies me. “She said that?”

“She did, but it’s fine.”

He places a hand on my shoulder and gives a squeeze before going back to his drink. “I’m sorry, kid. I’ll have a talk with her about that.”

“Don’t; it’ll just make the situation worse. Besides, I‘m fine with giving you Misu and taking Peeta.”

“Is that right? Is that how little you like her?”

“It has nothing to do with her winning personality. It’s just that Peeta and I spent some time together last night,“ I tell him. He raises his eyebrows a little and I immediately know where his mind has gone. I punch him in the arm. “No! I didn’t mean it like that! You’re horrible.”

He smirks. “So then enlighten me. What did you mean?”

“We talked, okay? That‘s it.” I wasn’t going to go into detail because what happened last night between Peeta and me was private, special. And Haymitch didn’t need to know all the particulars.

“Is he still worth saving?”

“He’s a really good person,” I give as answer and he nods, satisfied. “I will admit something though.”

“What’s that?”

“I’m going to enjoy watching you try to deal with Misu.” I give him the sweetest smile I can.

“I dealt with you, didn’t I?” Haymitch grins at me. “So, I think I‘ll be fine handling Misu.”

I growl at him and his grin grows wider. Before I can start raining expletives on my former mentor, Peeta steps into the dining room. He looks between Haymitch and me and, no doubt sensing that he’s walked in on something, begins backing up. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. I‘ll come back later”

“No, boy,” Haymitch calls to Peeta. “Stay, sit, eat. We were just talking, discussing strategies is all.”

Peeta nods and takes the seat beside me, giving me a small smile. “Good morning, Katniss.”

“Good morning. How’d you sleep?” I ask, relishing the feeling of him sitting so close to me again.

“I slept fine. The bed was really comfortable and I guess I had been really tired.” He says as his breakfast and hot chocolate are placed on the table for him. He turns to the attendant, “Thank you.”

Haymitch shoots me a look and I know what he’s thinking because I’m thinking it, too. He is so kind, too kind, even. What usually would be considered a positive characteristic could very well get him killed in the arena. But I have to remind myself that if he had been less compassionate, I probably wouldn’t have been alive to go into the arena in the first place.

“This is good,” Peeta says, suddenly. I turn my attention to him and see that he’s gesturing to his drink.

“It’s hot chocolate. I‘ve loved it ever since the first time I had it.” I watch him dip a small bit of his roll into the liquid and eat it. “You know, I’ve never even though of dipping my bread into it before.”

“You should try it. It’s good.”

I do try it and he’s right, it is good. I make an unintentional sigh of enjoyment and I can’t believe I made that sound with Peeta in such close proximity to me. I can feel the heat in my cheeks from my embarrassment..

I find Haymitch is watching us and when we meet eyes, he rewards me with a smirk and I can feel the warmth in my face intensify. “They say that you can always trust a baker to know the best way to handle bread.”

“Oh good,” Misu says, coming into the room with Effie trailing behind her. “Haymitch’s here. I was afraid you were going to force me to suffer through another meal alone with these people.”

I shoot Haymitch a pointed look and he sighs. “That’s enough, Misu. Sit down and have some breakfast, will you?”

And to my surprise, she actually does. Maybe Haymitch just has a talent of being able to handle strong-willed girls like Misu. And like me, I guess, but I am not going to be admitting that to anyone. Still, I think that he was being too harsh when he’s made comments about us being so similar. I mean, I obviously would never win any prizes for my personality, but in comparison, I’m practically pleasant.

No one else speaks, and we just start digging into our meals in silence. As we are eating, I can see that Misu has taken my advice at last and is tackling her breakfast with caution. I am sorely tempted to ask her about how last night went for her but then I think better of it. It isn’t necessary to try to antagonize her when I apparently can do quite well without even trying. At one point she catches me watching her eat and Misu shoots me a vicious glare.

Oh yes, she is warming up to me.

After we have all eaten our full and Effie has left to make the final preparations, the train enters the tunnel that signifies that we are close to arriving at the Capitol. Haymitch leans back in his chair and examines our tributes closely. “All right, get up and stand over there,” he says pointing to the center of the room. Peeta stands and hesitantly moves toward the designated area but Misu surprises no one when she ignores the directive and continues sitting. He gives her a stern look that has her scurrying to her place beside Peeta.

“Good. Neither one of you are deaf and are capable of following directions.” He gives Misu another look. “Well, mostly.”

Haymitch stands and walks over to where our tributes are standing, giving each of them an in-depth once-over. He walks around them, examining them from every angle until he’s standing in front of them again and stops.

He turns to look at me, “What do you think? Not a bad pull this year, at least as far as looks are concerned. And they both look healthy. Well, as healthy as one can get in District 12.”

He’s right about that. Misu, in spite of her disagreeable expressions, is actually quite attractive, especially in those rare moments that she‘s not scowling the pretty off her face. She’s tall and thin, but with just the right enough amount of womanly curves. Growing up in the Seam I had seen plenty of starving people and it was obvious to me that it had been a long time since she had gone without food. Which makes me wonder whose bed she warmed after Cray disappeared...

Peeta, with his blond hair and blue eyes, will undoubtedly be a favorite in the Capitol. He’s got some height to him; and even though he’s only sixteen years old, he’s already built like a man. Years of working at his father’s bakery have made him solidly built with strong arms and shoulders. He fidgets under Haymith’s gaze but grins when he sees me examining him.

That smile alone might earn us an easy half a dozen sponsors.

“Portia and Cinna have done wonders with less,” I say in agreement, finally tearing my eyes away from Peeta, trying to hide the blush that seems to have snuck up on me for some reason.

Misu makes a noise and Haymitch turns to her, his face stony. “Do you have something you want to say?”

“No,” she says, crossing her arms. She couldn’t be any less convincing, but at least she’s trying.

“Well, I do. Katniss and I, we’re your mentors whether you like it or not. And as hard as it may be for you to believe it, we are trying to keep your alive. So, unless you’re planning to step off the plate as soon as you get to the arena, you might want to consider listening to us.”

“Okay,” Peeta says in response, but I’m sure that he’s aware that Haymitch’s rant wasn’t directed at him.

Haymitch acknowledges him with a nod. “I’m so glad that you’re on board. What about you, Misu?”

“Fine.”

“Now that that’s settled, we are going to be arriving at the Capitol at any moment and when we do, you’re going to be taken to get presentable,” Haymitch informs them and we share a quick look; I nod at him to continue. “And I am not going to lie when I say that the experience is not going to be enjoyable, but you have to bite your tongue and suffer through it.”

“I’m sure I’ll be fine,” Misu says and I have to choke back a laugh. She has no idea what is in store for her. The hair removal process is so horrifically painful that I was quite happy when I had been classified as being important enough to qualify for the permanent treatment.

“I’m sure you will, too,” Haymitch says, but I can see he’s suppressing a smile, no doubt thinking something along the same lines as I was . “But I’m serious, I don’t want to hear any complaints on your part. You do what the stylists tell you to do, no matter what. The last thing you want is for your stylist to be angry at you and dressing you up in a sack. So be nice and obey, am I clear?”

Misu and Peeta nod in understanding as we feel the train begin to slow down. The previously dark windows are now bright as the tunnel ends and we are inundated with sunlight.

“May I present to you… the Capitol,” Haymitch says, an edge to his voice as he gestures to the windows.

Peeta and Misu move toward them and their faces show the awe that surely was plain on my face the first time I saw the view.

“It’s so colorful,” Peeta says, and the way he says it makes it sound like it’s not good thing.

I know exactly what he means. Everything in the Capitol is too vibrant and bright and unnatural and I hate it. I keep that opinion to myself, however. Instead I say, “It’s certainly different from home, isn’t it?”

“Ugh! People are stopping to point and stare at us,” she says, moving away from the window. Peeta stays where he’s at and begins smiling and waving at the crowd. Misu glares at him. “What are you doing?”

He turns to face her, surprised at her angry tone. “I just thought it would be smart to make a good first impression. Those people could have money which means they could be potential sponsors…”

Haymitch’s jaw drops and I can feel that I’m gaping at Peeta, too. He slumps down, looking embarrassed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean-”

“Don’t be sorry, boy. That was smart,” Haymitch says to him, interrupting Peeta’s apology.

Peeta sighs, looking relieved. “Oh, good, because for a moment there I was afraid that I had messed something up.”

“No, you did well,” Haymitch reiterates and I nod in agreement, making Peeta smile and relax his shoulders.

Then Haymitch puts an arm around my shoulder and leads me away from Misu and Peeta. He leans into my ear, whispering as so to make sure that I am the only one who can hear him. “Well, what do you know, Sweetheart, it seems like we might actually be able to save him.”

 


	4. The Boy Ignited

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of Cinna, a little bit of Finnick, and the Opening Ceremony...

The Boy Ignited

The Remake Center has become one of my favorite places in the Capitol. It is typically the place where all the mentors reunite and catch up with each other. And since it’s so early in the event timeline, we are usually as relaxed as Victors can be. Less than a full day has passed since the reapings, so most mentors haven’t really had a chance to bond with the tributes, yet.

Peeta and Misu had been taken off our hands by their respective prep teams over an hour ago and I was almost immediately abandoned by Haymitch as he went to find Chaff and some alcohol, not necessarily in that order. Left alone with my thoughts, I sat near the designated styling rooms for District 12, knowing that I could be easily found if anyone came looking for me.

“What an exquisite outfit you have on.” The voice, deliciously familiar and warm, has taken on an exaggerated Capitol accent. “You must tell me, who is the genius who designed it?”

Cinna.

Grinning, I stand from my seat and give him a twirl. “Do you really like it? I designed it myself.”

Technically, he’s the stylist for the girl tribute from District 12, but his main job is to make sure that I look amazing at all my Capitol appearances. I owe so much to him, and it has nothing to do with the fact that he always seems to find time to make sure that my closet is full of his fashion masterpieces. 

“Are you sure that it’s one of your pieces?” Cinna asks, considering the dress. “I don‘t know, I‘ve seen all of your collections and this one seems so inspired. It would have taken a true artisan to create this.”

“Hi, Cinna. Yes, the dress is lovely, thank you,” I laugh and he wraps his arms around me. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too,” he says in his normal voice, giving me one last squeeze before letting me go. “So, we didn’t get to talk yesterday after the reaping. How happy were you that Prim didn’t get chosen?”

“So happy. Until they said the boy’s name.”

“Peeta, was it?” Cinna asks and I nod. “What’s wrong with him?”

“Nothing is wrong with him. He’s perfect.”

He looks at me, examining my face. “Why, Katniss Everdeen, you have been holding out on me.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You got yourself a boyfriend, no?”

“What? No… Who? Peeta? No!” I just know that I must be the deepest shade of scarlet right now. “It’s not like that between us. No.”

“You don’t sound very convincing, just so you know,” he tells me. “I was merely teasing you about it before, but now you’ve got me wondering what really is going on between you two.”

“Well, stop wondering; there is nothing going on. I’m his mentor, that’s it.”

“Would you like it if there was more?”

“I can’t think about it,” I answer honestly. I push it out of my mind before I drive myself crazy with what ifs. “He’s a tribute, remember? I have to keep myself focused on saving him, that’s all.”

“And what if you save him? What then?”

Before I can stop it, my mind fills with that possibility. The smile on my face is so wide that it makes my cheeks hurt. But it’s wrong to think of this, right now, and I force my face into a scowl. It’s too late, however; I can tell by the look on his face that Cinna saw my reaction.

“I think I have my answer,” he says, a mischievous twinkle in his green eyes. “And don’t worry, he’ll win.”

I scoff at his certainty even though it pleases me to hear it. “And what makes you so sure about that?”

“Because I know you, Katniss, and you’re a fighter. When you are determined enough you can do almost anything,” he tells me. “Remember what I told you right before you went into the arena?”

“You told me that if you could bet that you would’ve bet on me.”

“That’s right and this time around I’d bet on him.”

“Thank you!” I wrap my arms around his neck. “So, you’ll help?”

“Portia and I will do everything possible to assist,” he assures me. “And don’t worry, he’s going to stand out at the Opening Ceremony.”

I separate quickly and I see that gleam in eyes that means he’s has something crazy planned. “Oh, no. What are you going to do to him?”

He shrugs, “Nothing. Just set him on fire.”

“Wait… What?”

“You’ll see.” He gives me that enigmatic smile of his that just infuriates me. He does this to me every year. 

“You can’t set him on fire, Cinna! I want him to have the best chance in the arena! Being burnt to a crisp is not conducive to my goals!”

“Relax, I know what I’m doing. Usually. It’ll be fine, I promise.” He taps me on the nose and I have to remind myself that Cinna has never let me down. Then again, he’s never set anyone on fire before, so there’s _that_. I am about to protest when Cinna leans out around me and waves. “Look, there’s Finnick.”

I turn to see that, yes, that is Finnick coming my way and Cinna takes that opportunity to start heading off. He’s not so quick that I don’t notice and I let him know it. “We will talk more about this later. And just so you know, I no longer feel pity that you have to deal with Misu.”

“I don’t mind her much, she kind of reminds me of you,” he says, giving me a wink before disappearing into the room that Misu is occupying.

Finnick stops in front of me, jutting his chin the direction that Cinna left. “So, he darted out of here. What’s up?”

“It’s because he saw you coming. Your beauty is too much for an artist like Cinna to behold,” I joke.

“Well, obviously,” he says as he opens his arms wide. “You gonna give me a hug or what?”

I throw myself into his embrace, enjoying the sense of security his broad chest brings. I bet this is similar to how it would feel to hug Peeta. Except that Peeta wouldn’t have dropped his hands to my chest.

I slap at him as I move away. “What the hell was that?”

Finnick gives me a look chockfull of mock innocence. “What? I just wanted to see if the year had been kind to you.”

I wrap my arms around my chest protectively. “I can’t believe you just grabbed at me like that.”

“C’mon, what’s a little groping between friends?” He smiles devilishly. “In case you were wondering, it has been good to you.”

“You’re sick. I don’t even know why I associate with you,” I say, sitting down on a nearby couch.

“You’re cranky,” he states bluntly. “Nightmares again, huh? Is this why Haymitch insisted I come and see you?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Haymitch came and found me earlier. Told me I should find you because I needed to talk to you. And when I asked him what it was that needed discussing, he told me that you would let me know.”

“Who knows what Haymitch meant. He was probably drunk and mistook you for someone else.” 

He sits down beside me on the plush seat, and he‘s not joking now. “Was it about your new duties?”

“I think we have spoken more than enough about that, okay?” That’s when I realize what it is that Haymitch was referring to. “There is something, though…”

“What is it?”

“How was it mentoring Annie?” I ask the person who has been in the closest situation to my current one.

His face sags, the memory is obviously a painful one. “It was the worst experience of my life, even worse than being in the arena myself. I had just finally realized how deeply I cared for her and I wasn’t able to protect her. All I could do was watch as horrible things kept happening around her. Annie broke in the arena, and I wasn‘t able to get her out in time to save all the pieces.”

“I’m sorry to have made you relive that.”

“Why did you want to know?” Finnick asks, shaking his head. He looks so different from the good-natured guy I’m used to that I know I owe him the truth.

“I want to save Peeta… My male tribute.” I add the second part when I notice the confusion in Finnick’s eyes.

He transforms back into his normal jovial self. “Oh, you do? Is there a particular reason for why you want to save him?”

“Do I need to a have a reason other than to want to have a District 12 victor? Is it too much to believe I just want some more food for my district?”

“Usually, I’d say no,” he says, the corners of his lips twitching upward. “But you’ve never asked me about Annie‘s Games before.”

It was true, I usually tried to steer clear of that topic with Finnick. Johanna and Mags had filled me on the particulars, so I had known that it had been rough on him. Of course, that means that he knows that I wouldn’t have asked him about it now if I didn’t have a good reason.

“I was just curious,” I tell him, knowing that he wasn‘t going to believe me. “It was in no way supposed to signify a similarity between our situations.”

“You love him,” he says and I scoff. Then his eyes widen and the deviant licks his lips suggestively. “Oh, I get it. You _love_ him. Regularly.”

Only Finnick Odair can make a word that stands for the purest form of affection imply a perverted base act.

“Why does everyone immediately jump to the conclusion that Peeta and I are…” I trail off trying to find a word I am comfortable using in this situation. “Dating? No one thought that about Gale last year, when I wanted to save him.”

“I did think it, for a minute there,” Finnick admits. “But then I saw the two of you together and I knew that there was affection there, but that it was completely unrequited on your part.”

I gape at him. “Gale didn’t feel that way for me.”

“Of course he did, little Squirrel.” He sounds so condescending that I want to punch him. “You were just too blind to see it.”

“I hate when you call me that,” I grumble. I detest that nickname. He apparently called me that the first time he saw me climb the trees in my Games. Unfortunately for me, it stuck. 

“And that’s why I use it so often.”

I narrow my eyes at him, but choose to ignore his comment. “Anyway, there’s nothing going on between Peeta and me. I just want to help him win in the arena.”

“Well, at least he isn’t ugly,” Finnick says. “Did you see mine this year? The fates were cruel to me. The girl’s not too bad, but the boy? I think his mother may have mated with a whale.”

“Finnick!”

He shrugs. “He must know it. Having a face like that, I doubt that’s the meanest thing anyone has ever said to about him. Or to him. Besides, he’s dumb as a post to top it all off, so I doubt he’d even understand enough of it to be offended.”

“That’s awful.”

“Here’s hoping he doesn’t win, because I don’t know if I could stomach a full year of celebrating his success.” Finnick rubs at his chin. “So, to save my sensitive digestion, I guess I’ll help you save the boy.”

“Really? Can you do that?” I shake my head. “No, Finnick, you could get in trouble; I am sure it’s forbidden to help tributes from a different district.”

“As long as I don’t actively sabotage my own tributes, there’s nothing that says that I can’t be helpful to other mentors.” His voice drops in volume. “When Annie was in there, I had help. I’m just returning the favor.”

“Thank you.”

“So, first things first: he’s going to have to wow the crowd tonight,” he tells me as if I needed reminding. “What’s Cinna’s plan for your kids?”

“He said something about setting them on fire,” I tell him sullenly. “That’s why he ran out of here like that.”

“Oh. At least they’ll stand out. It is a shame, though.”

“What is?”

“That Cinna seems to have completely ignored my pleas to bring back a look from a few years ago.”

I already know that I am not going to like where this is going, but I can’t help myself. “Which look?”

“The one from Johanna’s year?” Finnick says and I rack my brain trying to remember what was so special about the costumes that year. That was before Cinna and Portia were working with District 12, so I knew it had to be awful.

“I don’t remember the particular one that you‘re talking about, so why don’t you help me out here?”

“That was the year that they were naked and covered in that black stuff.” He laughs, hard. “I tried to convince Cinna that the look on your face when he told you would make it all worth it, but it appears he didn‘t listen.”

“Well, thank goodness for small favors, then.” But I can’t help wondering how Peeta might’ve looked in said costume. I push away the thought, with difficulty, and will myself not to blush. The last thing I need is for Finnick to guess where my mind wandered off to. “Well, at least you’ve made a point; there are worse things than being set ablaze.”

“How is naked worse than being on fire?” Then he rolls his eyes. “Never mind, I forgot who I was talking to.”

“I’ll have you know that most normal people aren’t as comfortable prancing around naked as you and Johanna are,” I retort, defensively. “A little modesty has never hurt anyone.”

“The only problem with your argument is that you’re a Victor, Katniss. You stopped being a normal person the second you entered the arena. Besides, I would be willing to bet that you weren’t _normal_ to begin with.”

“Like you’re one to talk.”

“Maybe you’re right; maybe that’s the defining thing that determines who wins and who dies.” 

It’s an interesting theory and I can’t come up with a with a legitimate argument against it, so I just say nothing.

“Your boy… is he normal?”

I think of Peeta and of his extraordinary kindness. “No. Peeta’s not normal at all; he’s special.”

“Then let’s hope my theory pans out.”

\-----

Hours later, I’m pacing the plush carpet of the sitting room. Mentors are not allowed to see their tributes until after the Opening Ceremony has concluded. We’re supposed to see them for the first time after their transformation on the television with the rest of Panem. Still, I wished I would have been allowed to go to Peeta, because I was sure that he was probably more nervous than I was. Smart bet considering that he was going to be the one set on fire.

“Sweetheart, you’re making me tired just lookin’ at you,” Haymitch grumbles from his armchair. “Sit down, will ya?”

“I can’t! I told you what Cinna’s planning to do, right?”

“Yes,” he says with exaggerated patience. “And do you remember what I told you in response?”

“Yes,” I fire back with the same tone. “And I do trust Cinna, I do. It’s just that sometimes he gets a little grand with his gestures.”

Effie walks in and shoots me a curious glance. “Katniss, what are you doing?”

“I’m just nervous, Effie. I want Peeta… and Misu to do well tonight,” I say, remembering the girl at the last second.

“Don’t worry, Cinna will do a magnificent job as always,” she says, obviously trying to calm me down. Sadly, it’s Effie, so she can’t quit while she’s ahead. “Remember last year? He even managed to make that horrible boy look interesting enough; well, for about two seconds before he opened his mouth.”

Haymitch shoots me a worried glance but I wave him off. I am used to Effie and her insensitive comments and this one managed to pacify my nerves by making me focus on controlling my tongue.

I flop down on the couch, earning a disapproving tut from Effie; she hates it when I ignore etiquette in her presence. Immature, I know, but it’s better than letting her know what I really think of her.

The television turns on, signaling the start of the program. The music begins and I can hear it blasting outside the window and coming through the TV at a slight delay, immediately giving me a headache. 

The tributes from District 1 come out first, in their chariot. The crowd screams and I am not surprised. Uniformly attractive and poised, they tend to be Capitol favorites every year, with some rare exceptions. I settle into my seat, as the nervousness begins to creep in again.

District 2 appears and they receive their fair share of love from the audience. These tributes aren’t as nice to look at as those from District 1, but they tend to possess a menacing aura that is difficult to ignore. They’re notoriously dangerous and it’s not by luck that District 2 has had the most victors.

Slowly, but surely, each district makes an appearance. There’s a lot of focus on the tributes from the first two districts, but so far all of the districts have been given an adequate amount of camera time.

Once District 11 appears, with the tiny wisp of a girl and her giant of a partner, I hold my breath. I start counting the seconds in my head, waiting to see the horses with hides as black as coal.

And there they are.

“Oh my,” Effie breathes out in awe. “They look stunning!”

Cinna hadn’t been joking, and I should have really trusted his judgment. The fiery headdresses light up their faces making the camera zoom in on them. In the close up of Peeta’s face that fills the screen, I can see the blaze reflected in those eyes of his and it’s beautiful.

Haymitch lets out a sigh. “Well, I knew Cinna would come through for us, but I didn’t think… He outdid himself this time.”

“He certainly did,” I say, keeping my eyes glued to the image of my boy with the bread. I am not the only one, as the time spent on the other tributes is significantly lessened. Peeta smiles and waves and blows kisses at the crowd, who begin chanting his name. Even Misu seems to have gotten caught up in all the excitement because it looks like she’s isn’t scowling.

“They love them!” Effie exclaims, happily. “I don’t remember the last time anyone made quite so grand a first impression.”

They finally reach the City Circle and stop in front of Snow’s mansion with the rest of their fellow tributes, and the music swells before going silent. The president appears at the balcony to exuberant applause from the Capitol citizens. As he begins speaking, the attention is placed on him; but slowly the shots of Peeta and Misu start increasing in number again. 

Once Snow is finished with his welcoming speech, the anthem begins to play and the chariots begin moving again. They do one last lap of the City Circle, to allow the crowd a final chance to see this years tributes before they ride into the Training Center, but the camera all but ignores the other districts and holds fast on Peeta and Misu.

The doors shut, hiding them from view and immediately the announcers start babbling about their impressions of the 24 tributes. Usually, I never pay attention to the asinine chatter, but this year I’m curious.

A person who‘s gender I am not able to distinguish starts gushing, “I simply LOVED, LOVED, LOVED, LOVED, _**LOVED**_ District 12 this year.”

The co-host, a plump woman with rubies on her lips nods in agreement. “Oh, I know, Reeq! Those outfits were… dare I say it… hot!”

The two of them dissolve into giggles. “Speaking of hot, Crize, what did you think of the boy, Peeta Mellark?”

Crize runs her tongue over her disgusting jeweled lips and smiles at the camera. “I think I found my new boyfriend.”

I shut off the TV, a little ill to my stomach at the thought of that woman putting those _things_ anywhere near my Peeta. 

_My_ Peeta? Where did that come from?


	5. The Boy on the Roof

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A drunk tribute and a scene on the roof.

I pick at the rich dessert on the plate in front of me; it is delicious. Or I assume it is; I haven’t actually put any of it in my mouth. My focus right now is trying to understand where that thought came from.

My Peeta? I don’t own him and I know this. Yes, I’m his mentor and I’m responsible for him, in a way, but even so, those feelings of possessiveness were completely uncalled for. It felt strange and different; but if I’m to be perfectly honest, it didn’t feel entirely unnatural.

And that just made the whole damn thing even more confusing.

The situation is not getting any easier to comprehend with Peeta sitting so close to me as I attempt to swallow enough sustenance to get me through the night. I feel so unsettled right now, while he looks perfectly at ease, savoring his meal and smelling of cinnamon and spice.

Oh, just eat your cake, Katniss.

I chew slowly as I try to tune into the conversation that I have been ignoring, for the most part. Not surprisingly, the rest of my dinner party seems to be talking about the outfits at the Opening Ceremony.

Haymitch laughs at a joke that I must have missed; somehow I can guess that it must have been about me. “That sounds about right. What did you two think when you heard about the plan?”

A rosy-cheeked Misu gives him a lazy smile. “I thought that it couldn’t be worse that some other stuff I’ve done.”

I am struck by how unlike herself she’s being until she finishes off the liquid in her wineglass. By the look Effie has on her face as Misu gestures for a refill, I can surmise that it hadn’t been her first glass tonight.

“I admit, I was concerned…” Peeta starts, carefully.

“Concerned?” Misu snorts and takes a swig of her glass. “He was terrified! He said he would tear my cape off me if I would do his!”

Peeta blushes and lowers his eyes in embarrassment. “I guess that it was a little stronger than concern. I’m sorry about that; I really should’ve known to trust in Portia and Cinna.”

“Don’t apologize; it was a lot to take on just faith alone,” I jump in, needing to defend him. “You only met them today and they were going to set you on fire. No one could blame you if you were a little wary about it.”

“It was a completely understandable reaction,” Portia agrees and I shoot her a grateful look. 

“Look at your mentor there,” Haymitch says, pointing at me with his drink. “Katniss knows Cinna and trusts him fully, and even she was worried sick about how it was going to turn out.”

Peeta turns those cerulean eyes on me. “You were worried, too?”

“A little bit,” I say, downplaying my earlier distress. In hindsight, I can admit that it’s possible that I may have overreacted. “But that’s mostly Cinna’s fault for dropping the bombshell on me and then running away from me like a coward.”

“Hold on a second; let me set the record straight here,” Cinna argues. “I left, yes, but it was so I could tend to some things that needed to be finished before I introduced myself to Misu.”

“Whadda I do?” Misu asks, looking lost.

“Finished four glasses of wine,” Peeta mutters under his breath. I’m able to hear him and I can’t help the small chuckle that escapes me.

Haymitch leans over and moves Misu’s wineglass out of her reach. “I think that’s your limit right there, Darling.”

Misu burps and mumbles something I am not able to understand. And I thought I was pretty good at understanding incoherent babblings between having to deal with drunk Haymitch and befriending Mags.

Effie signals for two of the servants to come closer; when they have, she gestures to Misu. “She is not feeling well, please help her to her room.”

The two of them nod and each take an arm and gently help Misu up from her seat. Luckily for all involved, she’s too drunk to put up any fight and allows herself to be taken from the room.

Once Misu’s gone, Effie seems to relax. “Well, that was scrumptious. Let’s watch the recap on the television.”

The Opening Ceremony had been transmitted across Panem live, but most people who live in the Districts were at their jobs when it happened. Work and school does not stop during the Hunger Games and the events leading up to it; however, the schedule does. No matter what district you live in or what your occupation is, work ends early enough to make sure that everyone is free to watch the recaps at night. Free isn’t the correct word, I guess, since it’s mandatory viewing.

We all make our way to the sitting room, where Peeta and I end up sitting together on the couch. We’re so close that our shoulders and knees are touching; and I can feel pinpricks of heat from those points. Suddenly I am aware that everyone else but the oblivious Effie is watching us. 

“What?” I ask, slightly annoyed at the extra attention.

“Nothing,” Haymitch answers, a smirk playing on his lips. “I was just wondering if you were comfortable, Sweetheart.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard that term of endearment said with so little affection,” Peeta says, smiling but I can see that it doesn‘t quite reach his eyes. “Well, outside of my house, I mean.”

I can’t help but remember how horrible the baker’s wife was and I wonder if she was ever good to her sons. Images of welts and bruises and swollen lips appear in my mind and I know that I have my answer. It’s funny, I always thought that the merchant kids had it better than us in the Seam; but for all the things we lacked, Prim and I never went without love.

Perhaps sensing the truth in his attempt at humor, our stylists decide to lighten the situation. Portia leans in towards Peeta and whispers conspiratorially, “Ignore his tone; the truth is that he cares for her a great deal.”

“This is very true,” Cinna joins in. “And no matter what she might say to the contrary, the feeling is mutual.”

“Only when he’s not being his usual intolerable self,” I say. “Sadly, you will learn that it isn’t often.”

“All right, all right, enough fun,” Effie says, clapping her hands to get our attention. “The program is starting!”

Yes, all the fun does tend to stop when mandatory viewing starts. I suppress a groan and turn to look at the screen. The inclusion of a running commentary to this version makes it all the more unbearable especially with Effie needing to agree with every opinion stated. I am about to tune the whole thing out when Peeta and Misu come onscreen and the announcers start gushing over them. 

Maybe it’s not so bad after all.

“Wow, is that how I looked?” Peeta asks in awe. “No wonder the crowd was cheering. Thank you Portia, Cinna.”

“You didn’t see yourself on the big screens they had placed everywhere?” I ask, knowing that when I was in his shoes, I had paid close attention to them to see every time that I was shown.

Peeta shakes his head at me. “I couldn’t do it. I was afraid that if I did, I’d lose my grip on the Chariot and I’d fall down and I’d never recover from making such a fool of myself.”

“Haymitch constantly falls down and makes a fool of himself,” I remind him. “And he recovers well enough to do it again.”

“Sweetheart-” Haymitch starts, his voice low.

“Shhh!” Effie points at the screen. “I can’t hear what they’re saying!”

They are rambling on about how good the outfits look and how talented Cinna and Portia are. Even Misu gets thrown a couple of compliments, but it is clear who the star of the ceremony is.

With every flattering remark the announcers make, Peeta’s ears turn a deeper shade of crimson. At a particularly inappropriate comment about his… hindquarters, he lowers his head shyly and doesn’t lift it again until President Snow is shown on screen. Even the chatty pair grow silent for the entirety of Snow’s speech which did not improve upon a second viewing.

And is it my imagination or is the speech a little longer than the one he gave earlier? It wouldn’t be the first time footage has been added or removed to serve his needs. I do notice that there are no shots of the tributes during speech; so I assume that Snow must have said something about the large number of shots my tributes received while he was speaking.

Mercifully, the speech ends eventually and the shot of Snow is replaced by one of Peeta. Then camera pans to slowly show all the chariots as they do their final lap of the City Circle before it goes back to Peeta and Misu. And that is the final scene we are left with as the program ends.

Effie claps her hands again, this time in excitement. “You did so well! Misu did fine, too, but you were so fantastic that it was hard to remember that you were from District 12.”

“Thank you, Effie,” Peeta manages to get out, but I can see that his fists are clenched on his lap.

“Yeah, yeah. They did alright,” Haymitch says. “But a good showing at the Opening Ceremony just means that people are talking about you right now, days before the Games even start. And that’s pretty useless unless we can get people to continue to talk and care about you even after you’ve gone into the arena.”

“And how do we do that?” Peeta asks, turning to face him.

“Well, for now, you go to bed and let us talk about it for a while,” Haymitch tells him bluntly. “Training begins tomorrow; so meet me for breakfast and I’ll tell you and Misu how I want you two to handle it.”

“Okay, I guess I will see you tomorrow morning, then,” he says and stands up from the couch, and I instantly miss the light pressure of him on my knee and shoulder. “Good night, everyone.”

Peeta waves at us and leaves the room, where we sit in silence until Effie excuses herself. The forced civility between Haymitch and Effie has not abated any since I was a tribute, and only in rare circumstances do they stay in each other’s presence when it is not mandatory to do so.

It’s not until Effie has closed the door behind her that Haymitch visibly relaxes. “So, that was a hell of a spectacle you two put on.”

Cinna smiles, “It was, but we all know how much people in the Capitol love spectacles.”

“They do, and tonight they love Peeta and Misu,” Haymitch says before turning to Portia. “Katniss told Cinna but I don’t know if you were made aware of this, but we’re trying our hardest to save Peeta.”

Portia nods, “Yes, Cinna told me earlier.”

“Good, at least I don’t have to explain,” he says gruffly, keeping his attention on the female stylist. “So, you got to spend the most time with him earlier; what’s your impression of the boy?”

“He’s sweet, I like him,” Portia answers, a smile creeping on her face. “More than I probably should.”

“He does have a way of worming himself into your heart, doesn’t he?” Haymitch looks at me while he says it.

I want to protest that I never said he was in my heart, but that would be wasting time we don’t have. Besides, I don’t want to think about why there would feel like there would be a ring of untruth to it. Instead I say, “Peeta makes it very difficult for one to dislike him.”

“His prep team already adores him,” Portia offers. “And we all know that they never like anyone.”

“So, general consensus is that we got a good one, at least in regards to getting sponsors, right?” Haymitch looks at us in turn and we all nod. “Good. Now go away, all of you. I need to think.”

I know that he actually meant drink and not think, but I don’t argue. The three of us leave the room together, with Cinna and Portia already brainstorming outfit ideas for the interview. They are so engrossed that I doubt they even hear my goodbyes. I smile at that, grateful to have people who care so much about the survival of children that the rest of Panem has already written off as disposable. 

As I pass the dining area on my way to my quarters, I notice Peeta’s there. He notices me, too, and gives me a grin. “Hey. That was fast,” he says, walking towards me. “Or did you get sent off to bed, too?”

I laugh. “A little of both, actually. What are you doing here?”

“I just ended up here,” he shrugs at me. “I know that I should be trying to get to sleep, but I wasn‘t even tired. I thought I’d walk the hallway until I got bored; you won‘t tell Haymitch on me, will you?”

“Your secret is safe with me.”

“Good, the last thing I need is for Haymitch getting mad at me,” he says, smiling. “I imagine being on his bad side would be unpleasant.”

“Actually, it’s no different from his good side, except he talks to you less. So, it’s not really a bad thing,” I tell him. “Besides, he’s going to be drinking for awhile, so you’re safe.”

“I’m glad. I wasn’t really looking forward to going back to my room just yet.”

“You don’t have to. Have you been up on the roof, yet?” He shakes his head and I grab his hand and begin leading him to the stairs leading to the door outside.

“Am I allowed to go up there?” Peeta asks cautiously, giving a quick look around the hallway as I bring him along. 

“Well, it’s not forbidden,” I say, opening to door and stepping out into the cold air of the Capitol. “Cinna brought me up here my first night and it became a place to come and think when everything became too much downstairs.”

“You came up here a lot, then? I know there was a half a dozen times in the last hour that I would’ve run up here had I the chance.”

“It gets better.”

I can see that he doesn’t believe me. “Does it?”

“Not really, but you do get used to it eventually,” I say. “Well, maybe… hopefully… I’ll let you know.”

I can see that he’s smiling as I walk with him to the railing. “I know that I’ll never get used to this view.”

“It couldn’t be more different than District 12,” I agree. A sharp gust of wind freezes me down to my bones and I shiver. 

“You cold?”

“A little,” I admit. “Usually when I come up here I bring a jacket or something to keep me warm.”

“Here you go,” he says, letting go of my hand and taking with it the last of the warmth from my body. He takes his jacket off and places it on my shoulders, running his hands over my arms to warm me up. “Is that better?”

“A little bit,” I squeak.

“Okay,” and he wraps his strong arms around me, pulling me to his chest. “How about now?”

I force my voice to sound as normal as possible. “Yes, thank you.”

“It’s my pleasure.” 

“But what about you? Won’t you be cold?” 

“I’m still dressed more warmly than you were,“ he points out. Then he pulls me closer. “Besides, you’re keeping me warm.”

I don’t know how to respond to that, so I simply choose to change the subject. “You know, I asked Cinna why we’d even be allowed up here; why weren’t they afraid that some tribute would accidentally fall off the side.”

Peeta runs a hand on the tall railing, probably understanding what exactly I was asking. “What did he say?”

“He told me that there were precautions to ensure the safety of the tributes,” I tell him. “There’s an invisible force field in place to prevent such unfortunate circumstances from happening.

Without warning, he lets go of me and sticks his hand out. ZAP! Peeta pulls his hand back and wraps his arms around me again. “Just checking.”

I turn my head to look at him. “I did that, too, when Cinna told me. Even though I knew it was definitely there, I had to make sure of it.”

Peeta nods. “I know what you mean. I have to admit that I was hoping that when I checked that it wouldn’t be there.”

An empty pit opens up in my stomach. “What if it hadn’t been? What would you have done?”

“Nothing, but then that‘s because I‘m not that type of person,” he tells me and his voice lowers. It would have been impossible to hear him over the wind if I hadn‘t been so close to him. “But it still would have been nice to be given a choice, even if it was something like that.”

That‘s dangerous talk even if there‘s no chance of being overheard. “Did you know that there’s a garden up here; do you want to see it?”

“Sure,” he replies and I lead him to it. When we get there, he detaches himself from me and leans down to examine a flower. 

“It’s so weird seeing something like this, isn’t it?” I move so that I’m standing beside him. “To find something so simple and beautiful and natural here; it just seems out of place.”

Peeta stares at me and is quiet for a beat. “Yes, it is.”

Why do I get the feeling that he’s not talking about the flower. Another violent shiver racks my body.

He stands and takes me in his arms. “Come on, it’s getting colder. Let’s get you inside before you freeze.”

I allow him to lead me back into the warmth of the Training Center. When the door closes behind us, he moves away from me. Taking the hint, I remove his jacket and hand it back to him. 

He takes it but doesn’t put it back on. “So, thank you for showing me the roof, Katniss.”

“You’re welcome,” I tell him. “I figured you deserved a not-so-secret place you can run off to when you just want to get away.”

“But where will you go when you need to run away?”

“I don’t mind sharing as long as you don’t,” I tell him. “Just as long as we keep it between us.”

We stop in front of the door to his room. “So, I guess I’ll go to bed now.”

I nod. “Yes, that’s probably for the best.”

We stand there awkwardly for what seems like an eternity, neither of us sure what to say or do. I’m starting to wonder how long we’re going to stay like this when the door across the hall opens and Misu stumbles out. 

She eyes Peeta and me for a few seconds as we continue our strange face-off. Then she makes a low, guttural sound, something between a cough and a laugh, and tells us, “Stop staring at each other and kiss already, watching you two is making my stomach churn.”

And just in case we thought she wasn’t serious, her face turns green and she disappears back into her room. 

I give a nervous laugh. “I should probably find someone to clean up the mess that she’s making.”

“Right,” he says and he sounds as anxious as I feel. “So, see you tomorrow. Good night.”

“Night, Peeta.” I say and I watch him go into his room. As I make my way to my quarters, I can’t help but feel conflicted about Misu’s interruption. On one hand, she did manage to end the standstill Peeta and I were stuck in; but on the other hand, why would she bring up a kiss? Did she say that just to be maddening or did I look like I wanted Peeta to kiss me? 

That’s when a more pressing question hits me; _did_ I want Peeta to kiss me?

And I don’t know the answer to that.


	6. The Boy at Breakfast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apparently, Katniss isn't the only one who isn't fond of Misu. And the mentors have a chat about the boy.

The following morning, I get up from bed feeling sore and tired. I didn’t manage to get much sleep what with all the unanswerable questions occupying my mind. However, that also means that I didn’t have any nightmares, so at least there was an upside to lack of rest.

I step into the shower and program it to my liking. It took a lot of trial and error (and a couple of detailed explanations from Cinna) before I managed to figure out the exact settings to use to make sure that I didn’t end up smelling like overripe lemons. Only in the capitol do they make it difficult to simply get clean.

Feeling slightly invigorated after my shower, I head back into my room to find my prep team waiting for me. Of course, with Misu training today, the trio has the time to focus on me again. They look surprised to see me awake and showered as it is rare that I am not asleep when they come for me. But surprise is quickly replaced by joy and the three of them rush over to me, babbling over each other.

“We missed you so much!” Flavius shrieks, his orange curls bouncing as he embraces me.

Octavia pulls me into her pea green colored arms next. “It was sooo torturous for us yesterday! We didn‘t like her at all.”

Venia presses a quick peck on my cheek and sighs dramatically. “She actually cried, can you imagine that?”

Misu cried? Well, that little tidbit should help me out if she decides to be difficult with me today. It should be especially useful if she tries to mention anything about what she witnessed last night between Peeta and me.

“She’s horrible,” Octavia pouts. “I can’t believe that we have to help her again for the interview.”

“Can you believe that she kept glaring at us like we were doing something wrong?” Flavius scoffs. 

“I can believe it,” I say as my team gets to work on my hair and face. “So, you wouldn’t say that she reminds you of me, right?”

“Goodness no!” Venia exclaims. “Why would you even ask that?”

“I have heard people make comparisons,” I say, leaving it at that.

“Then those people are simply terrible. You are nothing like her!”

I smirk in satisfaction. Usually my prep team’s opinion didn’t carry much weight with me, but I was going to make an exception this time. I can’t help the smile on my face as they chatter on about how much better than Misu I would have looked in my fiery headdress and cape, standing beside Peeta as our chariot made its way around the City Circle. I let my imagination wander a bit and I decide that I agree with them on that point, too.

Once my hair and make up are done, Venia shows me the outfit that has been picked out for me to wear today. The rich burgundy fabric seems to shine in the light and the material feels light as air. As they help me slip on the dress carefully as not to ruin their hard work, I notice that although Cinna’s craftsmanship is apparent in every stitch, I can see Snow’s hand in the design. Finnick’s comment to me yesterday rings in my head as I examine myself in the mirror; how good the year has been to me is prominently displayed for all of Panem to see. 

I try to adjust the bust of the dress trying to edge it upward an inch more for the sake of my modesty when Octavia comes and fixes it again.

“Oh no, honey, it‘s supposed to look like that,” she tells me.

“I guess waiting to get you enhanced didn’t turn out to be such a horrible idea,” Venia says, gesturing at my chest. “Still, a little more there and the dress would look even better.”

I must look horrified because Flavius runs a consoling hand over my arms. “Don’t worry, whatever nature doesn’t give you in the next year, there are procedures that can be done to help.”

“Fantastic,” I say and I hope that the trio hasn’t learned how to distinguish sarcasm yet. The next time that I get Cinna alone, I’m going to insist that he have a word with my prep team about pushing surgeries on me.

“Oh, here,” Venia says, handing me a jacket. “I think it doesn’t need it, but Cinna insisted I give it to you.”

 _Thank you, Cinna_. I put the new garment on and I am pleased with the end result. Suddenly my outfit isn’t quite so provocative, with some of the excess flesh being covered up by the extra material. However, I am aware that the jacket will have to come off when I make my appearances today. Snow wanted skin and so I will be sure to be showing skin today. 

My stomach rumbles as my prep team departs. I am ravenous from not having eaten my fill last night. I plan to correct that as soon as I reach the dining area. Another rumble as the scent of food hits me and I quicken my pace.

It’s early, still, so I expected to be the first one there. Of course I’m wrong, as Peeta is already seated and dipping some rolls into his hot chocolate. By the looks of the mostly-finished plate in front of him, he’s been here for a while. He’s wearing an outfit very similar to the one that I wore for training when I was a tribute. I wonder why Cinna decided to bring back a look he already used; that’s not typical for him, so there’s probably a reason. Just as there was a reason that my dress is the exact shade of burgundy as Peeta’s tunic.

“Good morning,” I say, filling up a plate for myself.

He jumps. “Oh, good morning. I’m sorry I must have been lost in thought and I didn’t hear you come in.”

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” I tell him. I bring my loaded plate to the table and sit down. “You’re up early.”

He shakes his head. “I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

“Me either.”

Our eyes meet and I get the feeling that the reason for his restless night is the same for mine. I don’t know what to say in light of my revelation, so I simply focus on stuffing food in mouth.

After several moments of silence, Peeta peers up from his drink and looks at me. “You look really pretty.”

I had just crammed a whole stuffed egg in my mouth when he said this, making me feel very, very NOT pretty. I chew the food enough for me to be able to swallow it without risk of choking. Even so, I still feel a little bit go down the wrong tube and I begin coughing up a storm.

Peeta looks concerned. “Are you alright?”

Cough, cough. I can’t manage to say anything so I gesture as if I’m holding a glass and drinking it.

“Water?” Peeta asks me for confirmation and I nod. He turns to the Avox standing by the food. “Water, please!”

His politeness knows no bounds, apparently. Thankfully, the glass is placed in front of me and I’m guzzling the cool liquid. A sputter here and final cough there and I’m good as new.

“Thank you,” I manage to croak out.

“Please don’t thank me,” he says, looking a little flustered. “All I did was ask for some water.”

I shake my head. “I didn’t mean for that. But yes, thank you for the water.” I clear my throat, hoping the little tickling feeling would go away. “But I was talking about when you said I was pretty. You paid me a compliment and I was thanking you; I mean, that’s what I was supposed to do, right?”

“I suppose you‘re right,” Peeta says, looking like he’s suppressing a laugh. “I just didn’t think manners would have been such a high priority for you after you nearly choked to death.”

“It was just a small coughing fit,” I say, my cheeks reddening. “And besides, according to Effie, manners are always a high priority.”

“Well, if Effie says so, then who am I to disagree,” he says, a smile playing on his lips. “But, seriously, are you okay?“

“Fine,” I answer, trying to stifle a cough.

He wasn’t even a little bit fooled and begins examining me closely when his eyes drop to my chest, where my jacket had fallen open during my coughing fit. He immediately looks up at my face, and I can see that he’s embarrassed. So am I, and I start pulling the jacket tighter around myself. Unfortunately, that just seems to confirm Peeta’s suspicion that I caught him.

He can’t even look at me now and I feel bad because I know that it hadn’t been intentional. And truly, why would anyone wear something that puts your bust on display if you didn’t want people noticing. Well, that isn‘t true in my case… But that’s not the point.

“Peeta?”

“Hmm?” He still doesn’t look up.

“I’m not mad at you,” I tell him. “I know that you weren’t trying to-- that it was just an accident.” 

He breathes out a sigh of relief. “I’m so sorry, though. I didn’t realize that you were… Well, it’s different than what you usually wear.”

“Capitol fashion, you know,” I say by way of explanation.

“Right,” he says, and he goes back to his drink. His ears are still a little pink and I wonder what his opinion of the dress is. I decide that it is better for all involved if I don’t ask him.

We spend the rest of our time alone together in silence. It seems like an interminable amount of time before we are joined by Misu. She seems to be in a foul mood this morning, and starts causing trouble before she’s even grabbed a plate.

“All this stuff smells disgusting,” she says. She turns to the Avox “Did you decide on finding the grossest food available on purpose or was it just by chance?”

“Stop that Misu,” I tell her. “It’s not his fault that you have a hangover. You don’t have a right to speak to him that way.”

“Stop shouting at me, I‘m right here,” she says, even though I haven’t even raised my voice. She holds her head as if in pain. “Anyway, he doesn’t mind; if he did, he would’ve said something.”

I stand up and drag Misu away from the man. I force her down into the seat next to mine and I barely manage to keep the derision out of my tone. “He’s an Avox, that means that he can’t talk.”

“What’s an Avox?” Peeta asks.

“They are people who were suspected of being criminals and as a punishment, they get their tongues cut out,” I explain, keeping my voice low. It feels wrong having this discussion within earshot of an Avox.

“That’s horrible,” Peeta breathes out, his face troubled. 

“So what did this guy do?” Misu asks, craning her head to get a better look at our server. “It must have been pretty terrible if they had to do that to him.”

Yes, because if there’s one thing the Capitol is known for, it’s fairness.

Her lack of human compassion has left me speechless, so thankfully Peeta jumps in and changes the subject. “So, when do you think Haymitch will show up?”

Misu shrugs. “Why do you care? Your mentor is right here.”

“Last night, Haymitch told Peeta that he was going to tell you both how he wanted you two to handle yourselves during training,” I say, trying to keep my voice even. “You would’ve known about that if you hadn’t been carted off before you could make an even bigger fool of yourself.”

“Watch it.”

Misu should know that I don’t take kindly to people making threats at me. She has just gotten herself into-

“Good morning, Haymitch!” Peeta calls out, interrupting my thoughts. Misu grips her head again, groaning loudly and I accept that as adequate punishment.

My former mentor narrows his eyes in Peeta’s direction. “Boy, you are much too cheery for this early.”

“Sorry,” is all the reply he gets from the blond boy.

I stand up and I address Misu, who is still cradling her head. “Just stay where you are, okay? I’m going to get you something to eat.”

I grab a plate full of fresh fruit and set it in front of Misu. I am proud of myself for not slamming it on the table as I had been so tempted to do. She doesn’t even acknowledge me, which is fine because I wasn’t really expecting anything more from her.

Once Haymitch has sat down, Misu starts, “So what’s the plan?”

He holds up a hand at her. “I’m eating.”

“I see that, but you said something about how we’re going to handle ourselves today. So tell us,” she demands.

“I will,” Haymitch says, sighing. “But not until I’m done with my breakfast. You should probably eat, too.”

“I’m not hungry,” she says. “I just want to know our strategy!”

“Our only strategy right now is that I’m going to eat my breakfast in peace and you are going to finish that plate of fruit in front of you and after we are done, I’ll tell you what I want you to do next.” Haymitch puts a bite of fried dough in his mouth. “Does that sound acceptable to you?”

Misu stuffs a melon in her mouth but the look of contempt on her face is hard to miss. Still, she proves herself to be obedient as she eats all the fruit off her plate and waits patiently for Haymitch to finish eating.

When he has, Haymitch pushes his plate away and sighs. “All right, I have heard that Misu isn’t terribly fond of the idea of having Katniss mentor her. Misu’s out of luck, however, as Katniss and I will be mentoring the both of you. Separately, you will each receive equal amount of guidance from the two of us. ”

I turn and look at Haymitch in surprise. This was the first time I was hearing anything about that. I thought we had worked out a system where I took one tribute and he took the other. Remembering how crafty and smart my former mentor is, I decide to give him the benefit of the doubt.

“It’s not up for discussion, either,” Haymitch says, looking straight at Misu. “Now, what kind of skills do you have.”

Misu licks her lips and gives Haymitch a smarmy smile. “I don’t think it would be appropriate for me to talk about my skills in front of theses children. I wouldn’t want to be responsible for corrupting them.”

Peeta and I both share an uncomfortable look but Haymitch chooses to go on, ignoring her comments. “That’s right, Misu; I know how good you are with a knife. What about you, Peeta? Anything special you want to share?”

Peeta lets out a half-hearted chuckle. “I can bake bread. So, unless the arena’s going to be a giant bakery, we can rule out that being a good skill.”

“But that’s not all you can do,” I butt in, not understanding why he was underrating himself like that. “I’ve seen you in the market, hauling around hundred-pound bags of flour with ease.”

“What good will that do me?” Peeta asks looking uncomfortable. “I’m sure Haymitch was looking for useable skills.”

I keep going, afraid that if I don‘t, Haymitch might decide to help Misu instead. “He can wrestle, too. He almost won the school competition last year, but lost to his brother, who had a significant weight advantage, in the last round.”

“How many times has it come down to wrestling? It is far more useful to be good with a weapon,” he says.

“Don’t underestimate the importance of strength,” Haymitch tells him. “You’ll be surprised with how often that helps in the arena. Can you run?”

“I’m fairly quick,” he says modestly. And it’s true, he’s won his fair share of the longer distance races at our school.

“Misu?”

She shrugs. “I’ve been accused of being fast. And easy, too.”

“What about your endurance?” Haymitch asks.

Peeta actually smiles at the question. “I have been told that I’m not lacking in the department.”

“That’s funny, I’ve been told the same thing,” Misu says, letting her voice drip with suggestion.

“Well, good,” Haymitch says, without acknowledging Misu. “Here’s what I want from you: Misu, stay away from knives and Peeta, don’t even think about showing how much you can lift. Keep your skills to yourselves until you’re at the private session with the Gamemakers.”

“So, what do we do instead?” Misu asks, finally dropping the sultry tone in favor for her usual annoyed one.

“Learn a new skill,” I tell her. “The knot-tying class is good; snares can be an excellent way to get much-needed food in the arena. Same for the plant identification station; plus, it’s often a good way to know what kind of environment you’ll be sent into.”

“Too bad you can’t teach us how to use a bow,” Peeta says, with a look of admiration. “If either of us could get half as good as you with it, we would win for sure.”

“Well, she’s not going to be there,” Haymitch tells him. “But it’s not a bad idea to stop by the archery station and try to get yourself acquainted with the weapon. Hell, try to get acquainted with all the weapons if you can. You never know what nasty little surprise the Gamemakers will throw in.”

“Anything else?” Misu asks, trying to look bored, but I can tell that the reality of the situation is just starting to hit her and she’s terrified.

“Stick together,” I say and Haymitch nods in agreement. “You want to put up a united front. The other tributes will think that you two are going into the arena with a ready-made alliance, which might throw some of them off a little.”

“That makes sense,” Peeta says and Misu rolls her eyes. 

“No, actually, it doesn’t,” she argues, “Everyone knows that the Careers have a long standing alliance, a dangerous one at that. No one’s going to care about whether or not Peeta and I are a united front!”

“Maybe not,” Peeta agrees. “But maybe if the Careers see us talking to the others, they might worry that we are trying to recruit them into our alliance. I think that would bother them a little.”

Haymitch laughs loudly. “That’s smart, boy! You do that! It’ll be good to make those bastards shake a little in their boots.”

Peeta lowers his head, embarrassed, but I can tell that he’s really pleased with Haymitch’s praise. Misu doesn’t look convinced, but she doesn’t say anything more.

“So, now you both know what I expect of you,” Haymitch says. “You are to meet Effie at the elevators before ten. Don’t be late, all right? Okay, that’s all that I wanted to say. You are free to leave.”

“Why do I get the feeling that by ‘free to leave’ you actually meant ‘get the hell out of here?’” Peeta asks.

“Because you’re smart,” Haymitch replies gruffly. 

Peeta and Misu make their way out of the dining room, leaving Haymitch and me at the table. He gets up and fixes himself another plate and I gesture to the Avox for a refill on my hot chocolate. With his plate full, Haymitch drops back into his seat.

“A little lacking in the physical side,” he tells me as he starts in on his stew.

“He’s big and strong!”

“His size is nothing compared to the boys from District 2 or 11,” he points out. “Even you have to admit that he looks small in comparison.”

I scowl. “Which just means he’s faster than them; and you heard him, he‘s got endurance, too.”

“Yes, I know. And that’s good, but we don’t know how good it actually is” He sighs, seeing my morose look on my face. “I know it’s hard to hear, but he’s got no extraordinary skills and that’s going to hurt his chances.”

“He’s smart, too.”

Haymitch grins. “That might be the thing that tips the scales in his favor. There’s never a shortage of strong, fast tributes with good endurance. Add brains as well? Well, that’s a little harder to come by.”

“Do you think that might be enough?”

“It would be if that was all he had,” he starts and then gestures at me. “But he’s also got you and that might just be his biggest asset.”

I nod and immediately make a decision, removing my jacket. I finally understand why Finnick and Johanna abandoned modesty long ago; it doesn’t call attention, and attention is needed for sponsors. If it’ll help me save Peeta, I’ll willingly prance around in a barely-there dress talking to and complimenting insufferable Capitol idiots with more money than brains. And I’ll do it all with a smile on my face.

Because he’s worth it.


	7. The Boy with a Score

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caesar interviews Katniss, an appearance from Finnick AND Johanna, and Peeta scores... Well, no, but he gets a score.

The days pass quicker than I expected them to and, before I know it, it’s the final day of the tribute’s training. I haven’t been able to spend much time with Misu and Peeta these past few days as the three of us have been kept pretty busy. They, of course, spend most of their day down in the training rooms while I’ve been visiting with the biggest spenders in the Capitol. I’ve only been able to see them for a bit at breakfast each morning due to them eating lunch with the other tributes and my dinner appointments with wealthy would-be sponsors. 

I check the large clock on the wall, it’s lunchtime; that means that the private training sessions will be starting soon. I wish I could be back at the Training Center with Haymitch waiting for Peeta and Misu to be done with their training, but I can’t. Right now I have to wait for Finnick’s interview to end before I can go up on stage. Thankfully, I’ll be the second one up, so I don’t have to waste the entire day here like Johanna who is scheduled to be last.

The crowd starts applauding and chanting Finnick’s name, so I know that his interview must be over. The curtain parts and he steps behind it, grinning and giving the audience one final wave before he’s out of view. Immediately his smile fades and his shoulders slump. But just a breath later and his façade is back in full force, he presses a kiss to my forehead and one on Johanna’s.

“Try not to embarrass yourselves up there, ladies. I‘ll be watching,” he says as he saunters out of sight. 

“Sometimes I hate him so much,” Johanna mutters beside me.

“Sometimes?” I ask. 

“Well, I hate _this_ Finnick consistently,” she explains. “Regular Finnick is only mostly aggravating.”

Before I can tell her that I understand, I’m being ushered onstage. I have just enough time to give her a small smile before I’m pushed through the curtain.

The crowd gives a collective gasp and begin applauding wildly. I make my way over to the chair beside Caesar and sit down. 

Caesar puts his hand on his chest and beams at me. “May I say, Katniss, that you are looking simply ravishing in that dress.”

“Why, thank you, Caesar, you are too kind,” I say and I fight the urge to cross my arms over my chest. Three days is not enough time to get used to suddenly showing off more skin than one is comfortable with. “But we both know that all the compliments should be directed at Cinna.”

“Well, fantastic job as always, Cinna, and thank you for her new look!” Caesar exclaims right at the camera and then gives it a wink. 

I bite my tongue to keep from making the correction that it was Snow’s idea for the new style, not Cinna’s. Instead I simply grin wider until my cheeks feel like they’re going to tear off my face.

He turns back to me. “So, now that the proper respects have been paid, why don’t you tell us about your tributes?”

“Oh, you know that I’m not supposed to talk about them,” I say, even though that‘s the main reason for the interview. “It’s against the rules!”

“I know, but we won’t tell,” he promises. He makes a cross in front of his heart. “It’ll just be our little secret.”

Our little secret that is being televised all across Panem, I think. But this is our annual routine and it works for us, so I keep it going.

“Well, I guess if you promise not to breathe a word of this, maybe I can just say a little something,” I tell him and then drop my voice to a conspiratorial volume. “I’ve got two amazing kids this year!”

“They looked amazing at the Opening Ceremony,” Caesar says and the audience murmurs in agreement. “Everyone I knew couldn’t stop talking about them. District 12 got them some lookers this year.”

“They’re not bad looking at all, are they?” I ask the crowd who cheer loudly in response. “Especially Peeta.”

“Yes, he is quite handsome,” Caesar agrees. “He’s no Finnick Odair, but I’ve heard that he’s got himself quite a fan club already.”

He does? I didn’t know that, but I‘m glad that the Capitol is so taken with him already. “I am not surprised. And no doubt there will be a slew of new members after the interview. You better watch yourself with him, Caesar, he might just charm the pants off you.”

“Thank you for the warning; I’ll make sure to wear an extra pair that night,” he says and the audience laughs with him. “So, it’s safe to say that you are quite taken with your male tribute this year?”

“You could say that. You could also say that I might be an unofficial member of his fan club,” I say, giggling. Even to my ears, I sound stupid and vapid, but the Capitol loves this version of me, so what can you do?

“What are you trying to tell us here?” Caesar leans in close to me and wriggles his eyebrows suggestively at me. “Is there more than just a traditional tribute-mentor relationship going on between the two of you?”

Okay, maybe I laid it on a little thick, but a quick glance at the crowd let’s me know that they’re all enthralled. “Are you trying to get me in trouble, here? There’s nothing improper going on between us, as I’m sure that it would be frowned upon. However, there’s nothing wrong with having a little crush.”

“There’s not,” Caesar agrees. “Especially when the target of the crush has captured the hearts of so many other girls.”

“Exactly. I couldn’t help myself, I’m only human,” I say, trying to force a blush. “You won’t tell him, will you?”

“Katniss, you know me better than that,” he says, patting my leg. And I do know him and no doubt he will bring this matter up during Peeta’s final interview. “I won’t say a word.”

I let out an exaggerated sigh of relief. “Oh thank you! I wouldn’t know how to handle myself around him if he knew.”

“And we wouldn’t want that.”

“No, we wouldn’t.” All of the sudden, I widen my eyes in surprise and give Caesar a playful swat on the leg. “I can’t believe you got me to talk about that! You’re terrible! I always say far too much whenever I talk to you.”

“You’re right, I am terrible. But you’re not mad at me, are you?

“Maybe a little,” I say, shrugging a bit. “But I’ll forgive you if we can change the subject to something different.”

“Of course,” he says, nodding enthusiastically and he quickly asks me about how my fashion line is progressing.

We babble on about inconsequential topics for a few minutes more before my interview time is up. The audience is applauding and blowing me kisses as I make my way behind the curtain. Like Finnick, I give them one last glance before I’m hidden from view. And I’m done.

I’m gathering up my things so I can leave when I feel Johanna grab my arm. She pulls me to a corner of the room, out of earshot of the rest of Victors waiting for their turn to be interviewed. 

“What the hell was that?” Johanna hisses in my ear.

“It was an interview,” I say, pulling my arm free from her tight grip. I frown at the red mark that she left behind on my skin. “I think I’m going to have a bruise there, Jo. Thanks.”

“How much of that was true and how much of that was lies?” Johanna asks, completely ignoring my complaints.

“What are you talking about?”

“The stuff about the boy? How much of it did you truly mean?”

I swallow hard, dropping my gaze. “Some. I mean, he is handsome and charming, I didn’t exaggerate that.”

“And what about your ‘crush’ on him?” Johanna asks, nearly spitting out the word. “What was that?”

“I don’t know! Why do you care, anyways?” I ask her angrily, but I still can’t lift my eyes to her.

I can feel her gaze on me and I want to yell at her, but I don’t. Instead I slowly lift my head and she lets out an expletive under her breath. 

She studies me a little more before she shakes her head. “Brainless, how could you be so stupid?”

Johanna must really be upset with me if she‘s pulling out the ‘Brainless’ nickname. “What did I do wrong? I thought the interview went well.”

“I’m not talking about the interview, I’m talking about you!” Johanna exclaims harshly before softening her tone the slightest bit. “I thought you would be smarter than to fall in love with a tribute.”

I can feel my jaw drop. “I never said that I was in love with him; I said that it was a crush!”

“And that was a massive lie on your part because it’s obvious that what you feel for this boy goes way beyond a simple crush.” She groans, running her fingers through her hair in frustration. “Don’t you know it never ends well?”

“Finnick and Annie-” I begin.

She interrupts me immediately. “You’re going to use them as an example? Annie’s broken beyond repair and Finnick’s forced to play lover to endless sea of rich Capitol citizens just to make sure that she’s left alone. But you were right about one thing, their’s is the best scenario of the bunch.”

“I know-” I start, but again she interrupts me.

“You know NOTHING!” Johanna is nearly shouting and it’s only the other occupants of the room turning in our direction that gets her to lower her voice. “I was in the same situation as you once.”

“Really? When?”

“Your year,” she says and her eyes become unfocused, looking at something beyond time. “His name was Arik and he was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. He made me fall in love with him and he fooled me into thinking that he would get out of the Arena alive. But he didn’t, _you_ did.”

My mouth has gone dry and I can’t swallow the lump in my throat. I rack my brain to remember the boy that meant so much to my friend and I can’t even get a clear picture of him. I do remember well enough to know that I wasn’t responsible for his death and for that I’m thankful.

“No, you didn’t kill him,” she tells me as if she could read my thoughts. “Finnick’s girl sliced open his stomach at the intial bloodbath. Ten minutes after the Games started and he was lying on the ground, dead and with his intestines in his hands. And the way I see it, he was the fortunate one of the two of us.”

“Johanna, I’m so sorry! I didn’t know.”

“I’ve never told anyone before, not even Finnick,” she says, looking tired, her fury spent. “And I don’t want your pity, Brainless. I just want you to realize what you just got yourself into.”

“I don’t think I’m in love with him, though.”

She gives a humorless chuckle. “Fine, keep lying to yourself. Maybe it’ll be easier for you when you have to watch the life bleed out of him. Whatever, I’m sick of looking at you.”

I watch as she turns and heads back to the rest of the group, who all watch her with curious eyes. When she gives them nothing, the attention is shifted to me. They’ll get nothing from me, too, I decide and I leave. 

I always felt that Johanna didn’t entirely care for me and I never knew why. Now, I do and I wish I didn’t.

\--------

By the time I’ve made it back to the 12th floor of the Training Center, Peeta and Misu have both made it back from their sessions. With what Johanna told me weighing heavily on my mind, I decide to lock myself away in my room for a little while. 

At first I try my hardest to remember the District 7 boy from my Games. Arik, I remind myself, that was his name. Unfortunately, he must not have made any kind of impression on me because I cannot recall a single tidbit about him. Not how he looked, not what his training score was, not what he said in his interview-- nothing. And I hate myself for that. He deserves better than to be completely forgotten by someone who was in the same Games as him.

The next time that my Games are on TV, I will make sure to watch it and remember all those who died so I could live.

The tears come unbidden and I cry without knowing the exact reason for the emotion. I decide that it doesn’t matter and just let myself go in my sorrow. I don’t know how long I was in the grips of sadness but eventually I cry myself to sleep.

I awaken to a soft rapping at the door. It’s Effie and she’s telling me that it’s time for dinner. The small nap has done nothing to help my physical or mental exhaustion, but I feel oddly freer. I yell to Effie that I’m going to wash up real quick and that I’ll be there in a few minutes.

The shower feels nice and the washing away of all the makeup feels symbolic. I quickly do my hair in my trademark braid and slip in to a comfortable shirt and pants and head down the hall to the dining room.

The table is full by the time I arrive, but it seems everyone but Misu has waited for me. I must still have some evidence of my earlier cry because Cinna, Haymitch, and Peeta all look at me with varying degrees of concern on their respective faces. I give them all a small smile that seems to satisfy all but one of them. Peeta just studies me for a few seconds longer before turning his attention to his soup.

Haymitch looks over at Misu and asks, “So, tell me; how was your private session with the Gamemakers?”

Misu looks like the cat that ate the canary. “It went fine.”

“Well, tell us about it.” I say, despite getting the distinct feeling that I probably don’t want to know.

“There‘s nothing much to tell,” she hedges. “The point of those session was to showcase our skills, right? And that’s what I did.”

Haymitch seems wary, but he still pushes the subject. “Misu, what did you do?”

“I showed them what I could do with a knife,” she said, picking up a knife from the table and running it over her lips suggestively. “Well, with the handle, actually…”

I am not quite sure what she is getting at until she puts the handle of the knife in her mouth and suddenly there’s nothing in Panem more interesting than the bowl of soup in front of me.

“Oh my!” Effie exclaims and I hear her spoon clatter on the table.

“Misu,” Cinna sounds tired. “Why would you have done that?”

“It’s what I’m best at,” she says defiantly. “Besides, they were all so drunk and bored that I doubt any of them noticed what I did.”

“Well, if it’s any consolation,” Peeta speaks up, but I can see from the periphery of my vision that his ears are bright red and that he’s not looking up. “She is telling the truth about the Gamemakers barely paying any attention. It wasn’t until I knocked over a tackling dummy with a thrown weight did any of them even look up, and I’m pretty sure that it was only because the noise startled them.”

I brave a look at Haymitch to see what he’s thinking but his expression is unreadable. He motions to have his drink refilled and goes to work on his soup. When Misu tries to say something else, he silences her with a look.

No one tries to make a sound for the rest of the meal.

It’s not until our dessert plates are being taken away that Haymitch breaks the silence as he stands up and starts heading out of the dining area. “Well, let’s go get this over with, then.”

We all follow his lead and make our way to the sitting room to watch the revealing of the scores on the TV. The tension is so thick inside the room that one could cut it with a knife; preferably not the particular one that Misu showcased her oral talents with. I still can’t believe she did that. I admit that my behavior at my private session hadn’t been ideal, either, but at least I had done something that showcased a useful skill. Misu just made a mockery of the whole thing with her little stunt.

All I can do now is hope that the fallout doesn’t affect Peeta as well.

The program starts and they start showing the tributes in District order, males first. Most of the Careers get eights or nines, with the District 2 boy leading the pack with a ten. The rest of tributes score modestly in the four to six range, with a few exceptions. The little girl from 11 pulls a seven.

“Way to go, Rue,” Peeta says from beside me. I look at him, surprised that he took the time to remember the name of the little girl anyone else would‘ve written off. He notices and gives me a shrug. “She sorta shadowed Misu and me during the training sessions. She’s a sweet little thing.”

Before I can respond, they’re showing Peeta’s picture. We wait and the number nine comes up. We all cheer as Peeta looks at the television in disbelief.

“I guess they must have been paying closer attention than you thought,” Haymitch says, giving Peeta a nod.

“I guess so,” he says and he rubs the back of his neck uncomfortably. 

But the joy is interrupted when Misu’s photo appears on screen. I can tell we are all holding our breaths. Seven!

A _seven_? Really?

Misu’s smirk is enough to make me knock that self-satisfied look off her face. She leans back in her chair and says, “I, for one, am glad that the Gamemakers know talent when they see it.”

“I don’t understand it,” I say to Haymitch. “Why would they give her such a high score?”

“The same reason the Gamemakers gave you an eleven when you shot an arrow at them,” he reminds me. “They like tributes with character as it makes the Games more fun to watch.”

“Wait, you shot an arrow at the Gamemakers?” Peeta turns to me and the surprise is evident in his face.

I glare at Haymitch; did he really need to disclose that bit of information? “It was in their direction. I was aiming for an apple that was in the mouth of the pig they were going to eat.”

“Well, isn’t that just priceless,” Misu says, shaking her head. “You were judging my actions when what you did was a hundred times worse.”

Luckily, Cinna steps in before I can physically show my dislike for her. “So, those were some good scores. Congratulations to you both.”

“Yes, you did very well, Peeta,” Effie says, purposely turning her back to Misu. “We’re all very, very, very proud!

“It was more than passable,” Haymitch says, downplaying the situation. “And you still have one more chance to really impress the audience.”

“And really, doing well at the interview with Caesar is your best chance at getting sponsored,” I say, and it’s true. How well you do that night will make or break your chances at getting money.

“We know that thanks to Cinna and Portia, you two will at least look good,” Haymitch says. “And as for the rest? Well, that’s what tomorrow is for.”

“What does that mean?” Misu asks.

“You’ll know tomorrow,” he answers. He shoots me a look and I know he’s talking more to me than to her. “It’s going to be a long day.”

I have a feeling that he’s right.


	8. The Boy Asks the Impossible

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katniss spends time with each of her tributes. Misu tells Katniss exactly how she feels about her and why.

The next morning I have trouble getting out of bed. The poor sleep schedule that I had been keeping finally caught up with me and I overslept. Somehow, I still don’t feel well-rested, but the extra sleep was still welcomed.

I trudge through my morning routine, taking far longer to get ready than I usually do. By the time that I get to the dining room, everyone else has finished with their breakfast. I serve myself some food and head to the table. Haymitch and Peeta, who had been in what appeared to be a very private conversation, look up at me as I place my plate on the table and sit down.

“Well, good morning,” Haymitch says, a smile playing on his lips. He seems to be in an unusually happy mood today.

“Good morning.”

“Okay, she’s finally here,” Misu tilts her head in my direction but speaks directly to Haymitch and her tone is enough to make me wish I had stayed in bed. “Now will you tell us what’s going on today?”

“As you both are aware, the interviews are tomorrow, so today we are going to make sure that you are ready for it,” he tells our tributes. “You will be receiving instruction from Effie, Katniss, and me on how to behave during the show.”

“That doesn’t sound like fun,” she says.

“It’s not going to be fun for any of us,” I tell her. “Trust me.”

“The two of you will be working separately with us, to better ensure you get all the attention you need,” Haymitch explains. “Misu will spend the morning with Effie while Peeta will split his time between me and Katniss.”

I lift my head at this, finding it odd; he and I usually did our part of the training together. But I trust Haymitch and if he made this decision it must be for a good reason. I just wish I knew what it was.

“After lunch,” Haymitch continues. “The two of you will trade; Peeta will go with Effie and Misu will be with us.”

Misu and I meet eyes, our displeasure at the arrangement mirrored on our faces. Spending any time alone with her is fairly high on things I would rather not do, but it seems like I don’t have much of a choice on the matter.

Haymitch goes on to explain exactly what they will be working on with Effie and with us. I am finishing up my breakfast when Effie appears in the room to collect Misu, who looks just as thrilled as I felt when I had to do it.

I put the last spoonful in my mouth and Haymitch claps Peeta on the shoulder. “I’ll see you in two hours.”

I nearly choke on the mouthful of food. I wasn’t aware that I was going to get him first! I’m not prepared! But before I can complain, Haymitch leaves the room. I swallow hard and give Peeta a weak smile.

“I guess it’s you and me.”

“I guess so,” he says. “So how do we start?”

“I have no idea; I’ve never done this before,” I admit and Peeta gives me an incredulous look. “I mean that I’ve never done it by myself before. I’ve always had Haymitch with me.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” I say, feeling frustrated with Haymitch leaving me alone. “I can’t believe he thought this was a good idea; he knows I’m no good at this stuff. Did you know what he told me when I was working on my interview with him? He said that I was about as charming as a dead slug.”

“Well, that’s obviously not true,” Peeta says, and I can’t help but smiling gratefully at him. “And you should be an expert at the whole thing; you’ve done hundreds of interviews by now.”

“Well, I’m definitely not an expert and let me tell you neither Effie nor Haymitch thought that I was going to do well on the first one,” I recall. “And I probably would have made a mess of it if it hadn’t been for Cinna‘s advice. He told me to be myself and to answer all the questions as if I was talking to a friend.”

“It was very good advice,” Peeta says. “Because I remember your interview and I thought you were amazing.”

“Oh please, you can’t possibly remember it.”

“I do,” he argues. “You looked so pretty in that red dress and you talked about how much you liked the lamb stew and how much you loved Prim and how you promised her that you would come back.”

I am flabbergasted by his memory. “How could you remember all of that?” 

“I remember a lot of things about you,” he says softly, his gaze on the far wall behind my head. 

I believe him, because why would he lie to me. Still, the subject makes me uncomfortable and I sidestep having to react to his declaration by changing the subject entirely. “Are you nervous about the interview?”

“Maybe a little,” he tells me. “I just worry about making a fool of myself in front of all of Panem.”

“I don’t think you need to concern yourself with that,” I tell him. “I have a pretty good feeling that you’ll handle yourself just fine.”

“As long as I don’t throw up on myself like that kid from District 9 a few years back, I guess I’ll be okay.”

I cringe, remembering what he was talking about. The poor boy had just stepped towards Caesar when he released everything in his stomach all over himself. But, because rules are rules, he had to do his mandatory three minutes covered in his own vomit. And then he was forced to wait until the whole production was over before he was allowed to leave the stage.

“That was a bad one,” I agree. “But people from District 12 have strong stomachs, even those from town.”

“You’re right about that,” Peeta says. “After all, I’ve mainly subsisted on stale food all of my life.”

“Stale food?” I ask. “I thought that being the baker’s son you’d have your choice of the freshest breads.”

He laughs. “That couldn’t have been further from the truth. In fact, your squirrels were pretty much the only fresh food we got. Well, used to get… You know, before all the changes.”

Gale and I had always thought that the merchants kids had it all; finding out now that our assumptions had been incorrect was a little startling. The bread he gave my sister while I was in the arena had been fresh, Prim had told me. His charity was greater than I had given him credit for.

“I-I didn’t know,” I stutter, feeling ashamed of my ignorance. “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?” Peeta looks at me as if I’m crazy. “You probably suffered most under the new changes. I can’t imagine how terrible it must have been having your hunting taken away from you.”

“No,” I tell him. “I’m sorry that I just made assumptions about you and your life without bothering to learn the truth.”

He shrugs like it doesn’t bother him. “It’s fine, Katniss. There are plenty of people from town that do the same and worse to people from the Seam.”

“ _You_ didn’t,” I point out.

“Don’t make it seem like I’m this good person,” he pleads, looking flustered. “Because I’m really not.”

“But you are!” I exclaim. “You saved my life and I never even said thank you! And then you go and make sure that my sister was fed when I couldn’t and I never thanked you for that either!”

“When did I save your life?”

I shrink a bit in my seat. Do I really want to bring this up? Well, technically I already did, so I might as well put it all out there. “When we were 11 and you threw me the bread that you burnt.”

“It was two loaves of bread,” he says. “Don’t make it sound like what I did was anything impressive.”

“It was impressive to the starving girl who had just given up,” I tell him and I can feel the tears stinging my eyes. “You’ll probably never understand this, but that was more than just bread that you gave me; you gave me hope!”

I can see that he doesn’t get it, but I didn’t expect him to. Still, he doesn’t argue with me. Instead he says, “You don’t need to thank me.”

“But I do, because I’m in your debt!” I’m shrieking at him and the first salty droplets begin to fall down my cheeks. He looks as if he wants to say something but I keep going before he can say anything. “Believe what you want, but the truth is that you saved my life; so now I’m going to save yours.”

The surprise radiates off of him. “Katniss-”

“No!” I stop him from trying to dissuade me as I don’t want to hear any of it. “I’m bringing you back to District 12, safe and sound, Peeta.”

He looks troubled. “I appreciate your desire to keep me alive; trust me, I do. I just don’t want you to get your hopes up in case it doesn’t happen. My chances of winning the Hunger Games are not good, and I hate to see you feel guilty for not accomplishing something that was next to impossible.”

My heart stops. “Are you giving up?”

“No.”

I nod, appeased with his answer. “Then, if you don’t want me upset. you try your hardest to get out of that arena, okay? You said you would fight for me, so I‘m holding you to that.”

There’s no use arguing with me and he knows it. “Okay. But you have to promise me one thing, then...”

“What’s that?”

“If I don’t make it-”

“You will!”

“Fine, but if I don’t,” he says, holding up his hand when I go to interrupt again. “I want you to accept the fact that it wasn’t your fault and that you have no reason to feel guilty about it. Can you do that for me?”

I know in my heart that he’s asking the impossible of me, but I give him a feeble nod. “Yeah, I can do that.”

Warm blue meets teary gray, and it draws out an unhappy sigh from him. I know that he saw the truth in my eyes, but it doesn’t matter as long as he doesn’t give up. And, maybe knowing that I will be crushed if he dies will make him fight a little harder. Because I need him to survive, that’s all there is to it.

He reaches out and wipes the tears from my face and I feel a trail of fire left behind by his touch. “Don’t cry, please. I’m not wor- … I don’t like seeing you so upset.”

I’m glad he didn’t say that he wasn’t worthy like he was starting to say. I sniffle and, rubbing at my eyes, I try to stop the tears.

“So, how about we try getting you ready for that interview?” I say when I’ve finally gotten my emotions under control.

“Sure,” he seems as eager as I am to pretend that the previous part of our conversation didn’t happen.

I still am shaky on how to begin, so I think I will just perform my own interview of him. “So, Peeta, what’s your favorite color?”

He smiles, “Orange.”

“Orange?” I repeat in disbelief. “Like that horrible dress that Effie was wearing yesterday at dinner?”

A grimace. “No, nothing quite so garish. What I’m talking about is more subdued, like the color of the sunset.”

I close my eyes and imagine a sunset. “That’s a beautiful color.”

“What’s your favorite color?”

“Me? I’m not the one who needs to prepare for an interview!”

“I know, but I’m curious.”

I huff at that but I don’t ignore his question. “It’s green. Dark green like the leaves in the forest.”

“Why am I not surprised,” he says. “You must really miss being able to get out there and be free, right?”

“Yes, I miss it,” I reply and steer the conversation back to questions about him. “How was it working in the bakery?”

“It was work, but I didn’t mind it,” he says. “Actually, there were parts that I loved; like frosting the cakes.”

“The cakes?” I ask, thinking back on the beautifully designed desserts in his father‘s shop. “Like the ones in the window? You did those?”

“Yeah.”

“Those are incredible! Prim loves them so much that I always buy one for her on Sundays,” I tell him, and a thought suddenly hits me and I wonder why it took me so long to put it together. “You knew, didn’t you? That’s why there was suddenly always a cake with primroses on it. You made it specifically for her.”

He can’t deny it. “She had told me once, while you were in the arena, how she used to drag you to look at the cakes in the window. So, when you started buying one every week, I knew that they were for her. I thought she would like it.”

“She did, very much,” I say, remembering how excited she got the first time I brought one of those primrose cakes home. “You have quite a talent for it. Your cakes were very beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

I move onto another subject and begin asking him about school; what subjects he enjoyed, which he didn’t. I inquire about his family and friends and things he misses of District 12. By the time our two hours are up, I have learned quite a great deal of information about Peeta.

He is finishing up a story about how Delly Cartwright used to pretend that he was her brother when Haymitch walks into the room. 

“All done?” Haymitch asks.

“Yeah,” I say, feeling like I didn’t really help at all with Peeta’s preparation. Still, his easygoing nature and inherent charm would ensure that his interview was going to be a success.

I am leaving the room when I hear Haymitch say, “How about we forget whatever she said and start over, boy?”

If he was so confident that I was completely useless in my time with him, why did he decide to coach them separately? It doesn’t make any sense. I won’t say that I didn’t enjoy the private time that I got to spend with Peeta, but I think he would have benefited from some real instruction instead. 

\-----------

I’m still stewing over why Haymitch would have scheduled the day the way he did when I realize that it’s time for lunch. I head into the dining room to find Haymitch and Peeta laughing over something.

“What’s so funny?” I ask, joining them at the table.

Peeta looks uncomfortable with the question and Haymitch waves me off. “Nothing, Sweetheart, just man talk.”

I roll my eyes and a plate is placed in front of each of us. “So, Haymitch, how did he do?”

“Good,” he says between mouthfuls of food. “Peeta shouldn’t have any trouble with Caesar tomorrow night.”

That’s good news. “So, what’s going to be his angle?”

“Angle?” Peeta asks.

“She’s just asking what is going to be your approach at the interview,” Haymitch explains quickly before answering my question. “He’s going to be himself, you don’t have a problem with that, right?”

“I think that’s a very sensible choice,” I say, sharing a look with Peeta.

“I’m so glad you think so,” Haymitch tells me before he takes a large gulp from his wineglass. 

We continue eating and making small talk when I realize that the worse part of my day is still ahead of me. 

“Are you okay, Katniss?” Peeta is looking at me, concern etched on his face.

“Yeah, I was just thinking about how I have to spend two hours alone with Misu,” I say with a groan. “And you just know that she’s going to be extra unpleasant after spending all morning with Effie.”

“You’ll be fine,” Haymitch tells me. “I can’t believe you’re afraid of spending a little time alone with the girl.”

“I’m not afraid,” I correct. “She and I just don’t get along and I find her difficult to be around.”

Haymitch just shakes his head. “Two hours, Sweetheart, and then you‘ll be done with her. And who knows, maybe you’ll be able to pull something out of her that no one else could.”

I find that as likely as coming home and finding District 12 covered in caramel, but I keep that thought to myself. Lunch is devoured and just as our plates are cleared away, Effie and Misu appear.

Misu looks like she’s ready to murder someone and Effie has on the same strained smile she wore when I had received my instruction from her three years ago. So, I can guess how well the session must have gone.

Peeta goes off with Effie, whose smile becomes far more genuine in his presence, and Haymitch leaves me with Misu. Fantastic.

I force myself to appear calm and not at all aggravated at being with her. “So how was it with Effie?” She glares at me in response and I have to steel myself to keep going. “Yeah, I remember what a horrible time I had with her.”

“Then why did you ask me?”

 _Stay calm, Katniss_. “I was just making conversation.”

“Why?”

“Because, unfortunately, you and I are stuck together for the next two hours and I was trying to make it as painless as possible.”

“I don’t even know why you’re bothering with this,” Misu says. “You want me to die in the arena.”

“That’s not true!”

“It is,” she says, but she doesn’t seem sad about it. “You want Peeta to win and the only way he can is if I die.”

“You’re right, I do want Peeta to win,” I tell her, knowing that there’s no point in lying. “I don’t want you to die, Misu, but there can only be one victor.”

“Thank you for your honesty,” she says, smiling sardonically. “So then explain to me why you’re doing this?”

“Because no matter what my feelings are on the matter,” I start. “You deserve a fair chance.”

“How nice of you to think that,” she says sarcastically. “Just as long as we are being honest, there are a few things that I want you to know.”

“What?”

“I hate you.”

I laugh because I can’t help feeling that she expected me to be surprised by this admission of hers. “Yeah, you’re not telling me anything I didn’t already know.”

“Then how about this? I hate you for not bringing Gale home,” she tells me and she finally gets the shocked reaction she was looking for. “I was in love with him and he couldn’t see anyone beyond you.”

“That’s not true…”

“He told me so himself. I went to the Justice Building after he was reaped and I confessed my feelings to him and he told me that he loved you! But you didn’t even care enough about him to get him out of the arena in one coffin!”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“I know more than you think,” she says, her voice low and dangerous. “You love Peeta, maybe not as much I as I loved Gale, but it’ll do.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that I am personally going to make you feel what I felt when Gale died,” she tells me, her eyes flashing with loathing. “I’m going to make sure that Peeta dies in the arena.”


	9. The Boy with the Bombshell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, time for the interviews. Peeta lets a "secret" slip during his... Three guesses what it is.

At Misu’s revelation, I stand up and flee the room her voice ringing in my head; “ _I am going to make sure that Peeta dies in the arena_.” No, I won’t let her. I probably should’ve stayed and actively sabotaged her interview, but I couldn’t stand being in her presence for even a minute longer. 

My mind is racing and I can’t seem to get ahold of myself. With just one sentence, Misu has managed to turn everything on its ear. Peeta’s in greater danger than ever, now that he has someone who is actively looking for his death. Yes, I knew that the other tributes wanted to kill him, but it wasn’t a personal thing. Misu’s determination to make sure he dies makes keeping Peeta alive almost an impossibility.

A gust of wind brings me out of my fugue and I noticed that I somehow made it onto the roof. My eyes fall on the little garden that I had shown Peeta the other day. I look at the flower that he had bent down to examine; it’s natural beauty still at odds with the fakeness of the Capitol. And yet, it not only survives here, it thrives. And so will Peeta, I am sure of this.

But right now I’m going to have to find Haymitch and explain to him that we have a situation on our hands with Misu. My only hope is that he doesn’t immediately assume that she was just saying that to get under my skin; I saw her eyes and I know she meant every word of it. 

I go back inside and head towards Haymitch’s room. I assume he must be there since Chaff is probably busy with his own tributes today. I knock on his door; no answer. I knock a little louder; still no answer.

“Haymitch?” I say, knocking as hard as my knuckles will allow. Nothing. “It’s about Misu! If you’re in there, open up!”

When I’m still staring at a closed door a minute later, I am fairly sure that Haymitch isn’t in his room. So, where could he be, then? I wonder if Effie might have an idea and start heading in that direction when I hear his voice coming from the dining room… where I left Misu.

That is not good for me.

I poke my head in to find that, yes, Haymitch is indeed in there with Misu. She notices me first and gives me a smirk; he notices her change in expression and turns over his shoulder and sees me. He doesn’t look happy and I don’t blame him, since he doesn’t know the whole situation. Something that I plan to correct as soon as I can get him away from her.

“Haymitch? Can I talk to you in private for a moment?” I ask, trying no to let my anxiety show.

“Can’t, Sweetheart,” he says, his tone expressing his extreme displeasure. “ _Someone_ has to help Misu with her interview.”

“I understand that,” I say, the urgency rising my voice. “But I really need to talk to you right now.”

“It can wait,” he says with a finality that I know that there’s no use trying to change his mind. 

That infuriates me and the self-satisfied expression on her face doesn’t help. She’s won this round and she knows it. In her eyes, I just tested his loyalty to me and it didn’t hold up. The truth of the matter is that I feel the same way.

“Fine,” I spit out and storm off. 

I go to my room and slam the door, fury and hurt fighting for dominion. I resist the urge to trash my room like I did three years ago, but that doesn’t mean that I’ve decided to let it go, either. Haymitch made it clear that we are no longer a team, so I don’t feel like dealing with him again tonight. So when that traitor comes knocking at my door hours later, I ignore him. 

Let him go back to that evil little shrew and leave me in peace so I can figure out a way to undermine both of them. It shouldn’t be too hard since I’m usually the one who gets the most sponsors anyway. I’ll just make sure to steer them Peeta’s way and leave Misu with nothing.

The drunkard comes to my door again much later, just as I am getting ready for bed. He’s been drinking, I can tell, and it‘s more than what he usually does while he‘s mentoring. I am glad because that just makes it easier for me. I ignore his poundings and the explosion of profanities thrown at my door until he leaves or passes out in front of my door.

I go to sleep, satisfied that I’ve made it clear at how upset I was.

\---------

The next morning I have a quick breakfast in my room, knowing that Peeta and Misu would be with their prep teams and that would leave Haymitch and me alone. I am still avoiding him and the best way for that to come across is for me to skip breakfast with him.

I am not surprised that there’s a knocking on my door just as breakfast would be finishing up, but the softness of said knocking gives me pause and I open it.

It’s not Haymitch at my door; it’s Cinna. And by the look on his face, I know that he’s had a talk with my former mentor.

“Come on,” he says, grabbing my hand. He starts pulling me out of the room and down the hallway.

“Where are we going?” I ask, not offering much resistance.

“You know where,” he tells me, and I nod. “I don’t know what’s going on, but you need to talk to him.”

I am not quite done being a brat so I frown at this. “I don’t want to talk to him. Not after yesterday.”

“Yes, well, that’s too bad because here we are,” he says as we get to the sitting room where Haymitch is at. Cinna pushes me in the direction of where Haymitch is seated, but I sit in the opposite side of the room instead.

When Cinna goes to leave, I stop him. “If you go, I go.”

My stylist nods, knowing me too well to think it an idle threat. “Fine, I’ll stay, but only for a bit. I have things to do today, you know.”

“So what the hell happened to you yesterday?” Haymitch asks me without any sort of lead in. “You were supposed to spend two hours with Misu helping her and before twenty minutes had passed, I had her pounding on my door telling me that you left her alone!”

I can see the disappointment in Cinna’s eyes when he looks at me. “Is this true?”

“Wait-- before you judge my actions you need to hear what happened,” I say, before turning to Haymitch and giving him a pointed look. “Which is what I wanted to tell you, but you chose Misu over me.”

“What happened?”

I relate the story and I immediately recognize the looks on their faces; they don’t believe me. They think I’m exaggerating or that I plainly misunderstood what she said or something. I can see it in the look that they exchange that neither one of them is convinced.

“Don’t,” I warn. “Don’t look at me that way! I swear that I’m not lying.”

“Katniss,” Cinna says, and his tone is all supportive and comforting. “No one is accusing you of lying.”

“But you don’t believe me,” I point out. “Listen, everything happened just the way I said.”

“All right,” Haymitch says, gruffly. “But did you think that maybe Misu might’ve just been pulling your leg?”

“She wasn’t.”

“How do you know?” Cinna asks. “If she dislikes you that much, she might have just said those things to bother you.”

“You weren’t there,” I remind him. “You didn’t see the way that she was looking at me. She wants to see me suffer and she thinks the only way she can achieve that is by going after Peeta.”

“Well, if that is her plan, then she made a mistake telling you about it,” Haymitch says. “Now you know about it and are prepared to stop her.”

“That’s true,” I say, feeling a little better. “Now, tell me that she’s as bad as I was during our coaching session.”

“She isn’t great,” Haymitch confesses. “I doubt that she’ll make any sort of lasting impression, especially having to go on right before Peeta.”

“So, he’s good?” Cinna asks.

“He’s going to be spectacular,” Haymitch promises. 

“You sound awfully certain,” I say. “What aren’t you telling us?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to ruin the surprise, Sweetheart,” he tells me, grinning. “You’re just going to have to wait and see.”

\-----------

After too many agonizing hours, it’s almost time for the show to begin. Haymitch, Effie, and I are standing near the elevators waiting for our tributes to appear. Much to my pleasure, Cinna took a break from helping Misu and helped me get dressed. The gown I’m wearing is a more mature version of the red dress I wore for my interview three years ago. This time, however, he added reflective jewels that make my dress shine when the light catches it just right. 

Portia hasn’t slacked off either, as my breath catches in my throat when I see Peeta coming towards us. He looks so handsome in his fitted black suit with an intricate flame design. The cut of the jacket really accentuates his broad chest and shoulders and he looks even stronger and more powerful. Somehow, his eyes are bluer and I have to force myself not to get lost in them.

The grin on his face is unmistakable when he reaches us. Peeta leans in, close to my ear, “You look beautiful.”

“Th-thank you,” I choke out, dizzy from his proximity to me. “You look very handsome.”

“Thanks.”

That’s when Misu appears and I feel my goodwill towards Cinna being sorely tested. She looks amazing in her tight black dress with the same pattern that is on Peeta’s suit. Misu looks too pretty and it might not matter what she says looking the way she does. Couldn’t Cinna have put her in one of the old coal miner outfits? 

But I know that his reputation is on the line, so I forgive him for making Misu look so desirable.

She looks me up and down and by the look on her face she is not pleased. I smile at her, which makes her scowl worse. Perhaps if I can annoy her enough on the elevator ride, she’ll be in such a bad mood that she’ll ruin her entire interview.

“That dress is lovely,” I say as Misu is within earshot. “It suits you.”

She completely ignores me, instead turning angrily to Cinna. “You made her dress right?”

“Yes.”

“Why did you make it so much more extravagant than mine?” Misu asks. “I’m the one who needs the attention.”

“Careful, Misu,” I say, a taunting lilt to my voice. “You wouldn’t want people to think that you were _jealous_ of me.”

For a second I think she might launch herself at me when Peeta steps between us. “I think you look very pretty, Misu.”

“Shut up Peeta,” she snaps at him. “No one cares what you think.”

“Misu!” Effie exclaims, downright scandalized by her behavior. “That is no way to respond to a compliment.”

Misu’s only answer is a muttered obscenity that makes Effie gasp again. Haymitch ushers all of us into the elevator when it arrives and we travel down to the ground floor in terse silence. The doors open and we all file out, going our separate ways. Haymitch and I take our place in the section reserved for mentor and I nervously await for the show to begin. 

When it does, I can barely keep my eyes off of Peeta. His attractiveness is almost heartbreaking and I haven’t been able to pay any attention to the interviews of the tributes from the earliest districts. After that, none of the tributes really make much of an impression on me, but that is probably because I’m so anxious for Misu and Peeta to come on stage and do their respective interviews.

As the boy from District 11 takes his seat, Misu’s name is called and she makes her way to Caesar. She is smiling, and I hope that I’m not the only one who notices how forced it looks. When Misu starts answering questions I’m surprised to see that her voice has dropped to a throaty purr. Every reply is dripping with seduction and I can feel any chance of saving Peeta floating away.

I’m almost near tears when Caesar says, “You probably get this a lot, but you remind me so much of your mentor, Katniss.”

Suddenly, Misu’s whole demeanor changes and her face is cold and hard. “Don’t say that,” she nearly growls.

Caesar looks surprised but recovers quickly. “Uh-oh, sounds like there’s trouble in paradise? With you two being as close as sisters, I can imagine that there would be no shortage of tiffs between the two.”

“We are not close,” she says and the ugly sneer she wears promptly undoes all the good she had managed to do previously in the interview. Thankfully, before she can correct that, the buzzer sounds signifying the end of her interview.

And now, it’s Peeta’s turn and my heart is beating so fast that I am afraid that it’s going to burst free from my chest. My anxiety lessens considerably once he’s standing next to Caesar and the crowd is already going crazy, cheering out his name. Peeta grins and waves at the sea of people in front of him and the applause grows louder and more intense.

“So, Peeta, tells us, what is your favorite thing about the Capitol?” Caesar asks, once the clapping has died down.

“There are so many things to choose from that I can’t pick just one,” Peeta says, affably. “I can tell you, however, what it isn’t.”

“So, what isn’t your favorite thing?”

“The showers,” he says simply.

Caesar chuckles as does a large portion of the audience. “The showers? What’s wrong with them?”

“There’s so many buttons! Press the wrong button and you’ve resigned yourself to having to take another shower to undo your mistake. Like this morning: I knew which settings I wanted but then my finger slipped and, boom, I smell like roses. Three showers and hours of work from my prep team and Portia, and I think we finally managed to cover the smell up.”

The crowd is eating it up, especially when Peeta offers up an arm to Caesar to smell. Caesar assures Peeta and everyone watching that the smell of roses is gone and the declaration is met with cheers.

“Oh thank goodness,” Peeta says, looking relieved. “I shall be more careful when washing up from now on.”

“I think that is a good plan,” Caesar agrees. “So, your father’s a baker, right? What is that like?”

“It’s hard work, but I do enjoy it most of the time,” Peeta answers. “However, being a baker’s son comes with a whole slew of problems.”

“Like what?”

“Well, girls don’t like to be compared to bread, for one,” Peeta says, earning some more laughter. “Well, I would assume from the constant presence of a handprint on my brothers’ cheeks.”

“I can’t imagine you walking around with a handprint on your cheek,” Caesar says, poking at the younger boy’s face. “I bet you could say whatever you want to them and still get them on your arm.”

“Only if they think they’d score free cookies,” Peeta says, lowering his gaze. “I’m not what you would call popular with the ladies.”

“I don’t believe that!” Caesar exclaims and by the reaction of the crowd, it seems that they don’t believe it, either. “You have all the girls here in a tizzy.”

“Well, that’s because Capitol girls are so very nice,” he says and even I can’t hear the lie in his voice. “But to the girls in back in District 12, I’m very ordinary.”

“I happen to know for a fact that you are mistaken,” Caesar says. “I am sworn to secrecy but I can tell you that I know of a certain young lady that is very taken with you.”

The audience, no doubt having seen my own interview with Caesar a few days ago, shout their assurances. I pray that the camera doesn’t turn to me because the deep blush might give it away and suddenly I don’t want Peeta to know that I’m the girl that Caesar is talking about.

Peeta plays along, not convinced. “Well, I’m very fond of you, too, Effie.” And he blows a kiss in her direction. Effie turns a deep pink making her wig look pale in comparison.

“I knew that you were a heartbreaker,” Caesar says when the camera turns back to him. “But while I have no doubts about Ms. Trinket’s affections for you, she wasn’t the girl I was referring to.”

“That’s too bad,” Peeta says and I see him shoot a look in Haymitch’s direction who gives him a small, almost imperceptible nod. “You see, I liked that I didn’t get attention from girls back home.”

All around me people let out a collective gasp. Caesar, himself, looks caught off-guard. “Why is that?”

“Because then I would have to let them down and I don’t like hurting people,” he says. “The truth of the matter is that I’m in love with someone and I couldn’t imagine being with anyone but her.”

I feel jealousy run through my body turning my blood cold. I can’t stop myself from hating the unnamed girl that has stolen Peeta’s heart. I know, whoever she is, she doesn’t deserve him and I loathe her for somehow managing to trick Peeta into thinking that she did.

Caesar puts his hand to his chest and lets out a sigh. “That’s so romantic! Are you and her close?”

He shakes his head. “Not really. I think I existed outside her periphery until I got reaped.”

“That is so sad!” Caesar exclaims and he makes a show of bringing out a handkerchief. “Did you get a chance to tell her how you feel?”

“No.”

“So, she didn’t reject you,” Caesar says. “And you never know, she might feel the same way about you!”

This line of questioning is certainly endearing Peeta to the crowd, but I still wish that Caesar would drop it and move on. I do not like hearing about Peeta’s special girl back home and wish they would talk about anything else.

“She could,” he agrees. “But I doubt it.”

“Is she involved with someone else?”

“There was a time when I thought that she was, but then he… he turned out to just be a friend,” Peeta says. 

“That should give you hope then!” Caesar says, giving Peeta a reassuring pat on the back. “I have an idea to really impress her. Confess your love to her right now and, when you win, she’ll have no choice but to jump into your arms.”

“I can’t do that, Caesar.”

“Why not?”

Peeta shoots another glance in the direction of Haymitch and me, and all I want to do is shake my head at him. I fight the urge to scream at him to not say another word on the matter and to keep the identity of the girl who stole his heart a secret because I don‘t want to know.

But I don’t say or do anything but watch a red-faced Peeta turn back to Caesar and say, “Because I don’t want to get her into trouble.”

“And how would it get her in trouble?”

“Because I don’t think I’m supposed to be in love with my mentor.”


	10. The Boy Who Says Goodbye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some fallout from the interviews.. And Peeta and Katniss say goodbye.

Everything seems to stop after his bombshell and then starts up again in unison. The crowd erupts in raucous cheers and the camera is trained on me. I don’t know how I should be handling this news, so I stare at Peeta in shock, our faces both burning with embarrassment.

I can hear that Caesar is laughing joyfully. He claps Peeta on the back, hard enough that it makes a _thump_. “Don’t worry about that! There are no rules against falling for such a beautiful woman like Katniss.”

“That’s good,” Peeta says, keeping his gaze away from me. 

“You know what else is good?” Caesar asks. “That maybe you have a better shot with her than you originally thought!”

Before Caesar can elaborate on that, no doubt disclosing what I said during my interview, the buzzer sounds. That’s it; his three minutes are up and Peeta goes to walk away. But before he can, Caesar takes Peeta’s hand and gives it a firm shake. “Good luck, Peeta Mellark, and don’t doubt that all of Panem is rooting for you.”

It sounds like an awfully presumptuous thing to say; but if the Capitol crowd are any indication, Peeta is surely the favorite in the 74th Hunger Games. Peeta thanks Caesar and the crowd quietly and goes and takes his place beside Misu.

The show has ended and we all rise as the anthem begins to play; every screen showing alternating shots of Peeta and me. On one shot of me, I notice that beside me, Haymitch is trying to hide his smile. I can’t believe how accurate Haymitch’s prediction had been; no one will remember anything about this night except for Peeta and his confession of love for me. 

And for Haymitch to be so spot on, he must have known all about Peeta’s feelings for me. Of course, that explains so much. 

Once the anthem has finished, we all make our way to the elevators. I happen to lose Haymitch somewhere along the way, but somehow manage to get into a car with both Johanna and Finnick.

“That was fun,” Finnick says, leaning back on the wall. “I wasn’t expecting such excitement tonight. What about you, Jo?”

Johanna pretends not to hear him and moves closer to me, studying me curiously. “You didn’t know this was going to happen.”

It was a statement, not a question, but I decide to answer it anyways, “No, I was completely caught off-guard.”

“You couldn’t tell?” Finnick asks Johanna. “That reaction shot said it all, I thought. We all know that Katniss is a terrible actress.”

“Am not!”

“You kinda are,” Johanna says, smirking. 

“I act during interviews all the time!” I argue. “If I was so bad at it, I think I would have heard about it by now.”

“Fine, you’re really good at acting ditzy and frivolous,” Finnick concedes. “But the look you threw out tonight was way out of your acting range.”

“The question now is whether the confession was real, or if Haymitch set it up,” Johanna points out.

“I don’t know the answer to that,” I reply. “Haymitch had a hand in it, definitely, but I don’t know to what extent.”

The elevator stops on the fourth floor and Finnick pushes past us to get out of the car. Once out he says, “It was definitely real because no one can fake emotion that well. Not even me.”

“I hope he’s wrong,” I say when the doors close behind him and the elevator starts its ascent again.

“Do you?” Johanna asks me. “Because I don’t believe you. You may know that it would be easier on everyone if what he said was false, but you are secretly pleased that those feelings you won’t even admit to yourself are reciprocated. Well, maybe you’re not so secretly pleased as it’s written all over your face.”

“No, it’s not!”

“It kind of is,” pipes up Kriila, one of the mentors from District 6 that I have a passing acquaintance with. She looks embarrassed at her comment. “I’m sorry, but I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation.”

“It’s fine,” Johanna says in an unusually friendly tone. “You just made my point for me, so thank you.”

Kriila nods but she still looks uncomfortable and when the elevator stops on her floor, she practically runs out. Johanna smirks at me but I’m not quite so amused.

“That doesn’t prove anything,” I say, stubbornly. 

“Fine, ignore the obvious,” Johanna says and then she grows serious. “But don’t ignore this piece of advice; you need to tell that boy how you feel before he goes into the arena tomorrow.”

I’m startled by this. “You just yelled at me the other day for having feelings for him and now you want me to confess to him the night before the Games start? I don’t understand you.”

“Maybe I was a little harsh on you,” Johanna admits. “I just didn’t want this situation for you. But there’s nothing to be done about your feelings now. The only option you have is to make sure that he knows about it before it’s too late.”

“How will that make the situation any better?” I ask and curse the fact that the doors are opening on Johanna’s floor.

“I don’t know, but I can tell you that I regret not letting Arik know. Sometimes I wonder if it wouldn’t have made a difference if he had known how deep my affections had run.” She steps off and gives me a shrug. “But it’s up to you.”

The doors close and I spend the rest of the trip to the 12th floor in silence. But the tranquility doesn’t last very long, because as soon as I step off the elevator I am confronted with a very angry Misu.

“You must be _pleased_ with his little show out there,” she says, spitting out the words. “How heartless can you be? Make the boy play a fool right before you get him killed? You disgust me.”

“I didn’t make him do anything,” I say in my defense. “I had no idea he was going to do that tonight.”

“Of course you didn’t.” She glares at me, her gray eyes dark with rage. “You just played your little game with him until he fell for you. At least Peeta’s lucky that you care about him, unlike poor Gale.”

“I cared about Gale!” I don’t even know why I’m bothering to protest this, she has her mind made up on how the situation went down. “I am sorry that he died, Misu, and I’m sorry that he didn’t return your feelings; but that is no reason for you to take your anger and hate out on Peeta!”

“Except that I hate him, too!” She is yelling now. “If that stunt he had pulled had only made him more desirable, I wouldn’t have blamed him for that. But no, he had to pull you into it, making you the star of the show!”

I am at my limit with her. “Your constant envy of me is very exhausting, Misu, maybe you’d like to give it a rest for a bit?”

She lets out an inhuman noise and before I know it, she’s on me, pushing me to the floor. I only realize that she swung her hand at me when the pain explodes on my cheek. I wait for other blows to land but they don’t come. That’s when I notice Misu being pulled away from me by Peeta. Cinna immediately jumps in and helps Peeta put more distance between the struggling Misu and me. 

Portia kneels beside me, checking up on me. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” I say, gingerly touching my stinging cheek. “It was just a slap.”

Haymitch is furious and grabs Misu by the arm the second Peeta and Cinna set her down. “What is wrong with you?”

“She provoked me!” Her screech sounds unbelievable to me, especially when she tries to come at me again. Luckily, Haymitch’s grip on her arm is strong.

“Did you provoke her?” Haymitch asks me.

“No,” I answer, which I know isn’t entirely true.

“Where were you while all this was going on, boy?” Haymitch asks Peeta, who has come over to make sure I‘m okay. 

“I was going to the dining room, I was hungry,” he says, looking sheepish. “But I ran back here the second I heard the yelling.”

“What was the yelling about?” Cinna asks. Misu and I glare at each other but say nothing in response. “Did you manage to catch anything, Peeta?”

“Not really,” he says, but he must be lying. There is no way that he managed to keep Misu from hitting me again if he hadn’t been close enough to have heard the tail end of the conversation.

Portia stands and helps me off the floor. “Come on, let’s go get some ice on your cheek, Katniss.”

“I hope it turns into a bruise,” Misu says spitefully at me as Portia leads me past her. “A big bruise as ugly as you are.”

Haymitch gives her arm a sharp pull to get her attention and starts talking to her. I can’t hear what he’s saying because he’s keeping his voice low, but I know that the conversation won’t be pleasant.

I’m brought to the dining room where I’m directed to sit down as Portia and Cinna alternate between icing my cheek and examining it. Peeta sits near me and my hand finds his after a particularly painful poke from Cinna.

“It shouldn’t bruise,” Cinna announces finally. “And if it does, it shouldn’t be too bad. We’ll be able to cover it up, no problem.”

“Oh good,” Effie breathes out, the relief apparent in her voice. I hadn‘t even noticed when she had come in. “The last thing we need is for our beautiful Katniss to walk around with a large bruise on her face.”

“Will Misu get in trouble for this?” Peeta asks. “I know that tributes aren’t allowed to fight other tributes before the Games start, but are there any rules against fighting with your mentors?”

“I don’t think there are,” I say, holding the ice to my cheek. “But I definitely think there should be.”

Peeta gives my hand a big squeeze before letting it go and I wish he hadn‘t. “I agree with you on that.”

Haymitch comes into the dining room without Misu in tow. I questionably raise an eyebrow at him. “Misu and I thought that it was perhaps in her best interest to take her dinner alone in her room tonight.”

Dinner is mostly a quiet affair, with a spattering of small talk here or there. I am glad to see that Peeta is devouring practically everything in sight. I know from experience how nervous one can get the morning of the Games and he probably won’t be able to eat anything then, so a good meal the night before is essential.

There is a televised replay of the interviews after dinner and we leave the dining area for the sitting room in order to watch them. Effie inquires if someone should fetch Misu, but even she agrees with the general consensus that it would probably better for everyone if we just left her be.

Now that I don’t have my anxiety about Peeta’s performance, I can pay attention to the other districts. Even so, only a few of them stand out. The District 1 girl is all sexy and provocative, which comes as no surprise. All of Cashmere’s girls resort to that; after all, it worked so well for Cashmere herself. The boy from 2 exudes confidence in everything he says. I wouldn’t call it cocky because, from what I heard from Peeta and Misu, the boy can most definitely back it up.

During the interview with the boy from District 4, I can’t help but think that Finnick hadn’t really been all that harsh with his description of his tribute. I am surprised by the girl from District 5. There’s something about her that reminds me of a fox, and her obvious cleverness does nothing to detract from similarities with the notoriously sly animal.

Rue, the girl from 11, is adorable and I think of my little Prim. But no, such thinking is not going to help anyone and I force myself off that mental topic. The huge boy from 11 doesn’t give much in the way of interviews, but his mere size should be enough to get him a good number of sponsors.

The camera does Misu no favors when it pulls tight on her face when Caesar compares her to me. Her true colors came out and all of Panem saw it, and I know it will be difficult convincing sponsors to help her out. 

The same cannot be said for Peeta; after his performance, I wouldn’t be surprised if the sponsors don’t come looking for me to give gifts to the charming, lovesick boy of District 12. Peeta averts his eyes from the television when it gets to the point in the interview where he announces that he’s in love with his mentor.

I don’t blame him as I have to fight the desire to mimic his action when the camera focuses on me. But I couldn’t look away; after Finnick’s comment earlier, I needed to know exactly what my expression was. I feel like I have been punched in the gut when I see my reaction shot to Peeta’s expression of love for me.

There is no doubt that I wore the face of a girl in love.

The program ends and I’m wrestling with the sudden influx of emotions that I hadn’t dared to name before now. I am trying to sort them out in a way that I could deal with them when I am distracted by a nearby noise that takes me a few seconds to recognize as Effie sniffling.

“You are the sweetest, handsomest boy I have ever had the pleasure of working with,” she says, tears threatening to spill from her eyes as she caresses his cheek. “Good luck, Peeta, dear.”

And then, she flees the room, overcome with emotions I imagine. I can’t help but wonder if Effie will even bother to seek Misu out and give the girl her goodbyes. Cinna shakes Peeta’s hand and also wishes him luck. Portia gives Peeta a quick kiss on the cheek and tells him that she’ll see him tomorrow before she and Cinna leave the room.

And now only three of us are left and I’m afraid that if I don’t speak up first, Haymitch will leave and I will be forced into a conversation I am not even sure that I want to have with Peeta. 

So, I give him a quick, fierce hug as I fight my own tears. “Don’t forget that you said you would fight for me.”

“I won’t,” he says, his voice hoarse with emotion. “But you have to remember what you promised me.”

“If anything happens, which it _won’t_ , I won’t feel guilty,” I tell him, the lie feeling dirty on my tongue.

I doubt that he believes me, but he still doesn’t fight me on it. Instead, he brushes his lips against my forehead and whispers, “Thank you.”

That is the last straw and the floodgates open. I hurry out of the room without another word and practically run all the way up to the roof. I hate myself for my weakness and I hope that Haymitch picks up my slack and gives Peeta the last bits of much-needed advice. After all, I still remember the first piece of advice that Haymitch gave me about how to win in the arena.

_Stay alive._

As long as Peeta can follow that one small tip, everything will be fine. But it hasn’t been so long since I was in the arena; and I know how that particular bit of wisdom is harder than it sounds to follow.

I don’t know how long I am up on the roof, letting myself cry. I am chilled to the bone, my sleeveless dress offering no protection from the cold, but I can‘t imagine going back inside, not yet, at least. A strong wind blows all the tears off my face and I shiver violently.

I nearly jump when I feel a jacket being placed on my shoulders. I don’t have to turn to know who it is, I just lean back against his muscled chest and let him wrap his arms around me.

“I just knew that you’d be up here without a jacket, again,” Peeta says, pulling me closer to him. 

“Thank you for coming up here and saving me from the cold,” I say, my voice surprisingly steady.

We are quiet for a moment as we listen to the raucous groups of people below on the street. I almost let myself forget that this might be the last time that I’m with Peeta and snuggle deeper into his embrace.

“I am sorry if I embarrassed you earlier,” he begins, his breath warming the side of my face. “That wasn’t my intention.”

“Don’t apologize, it was a good move on your part,” I tell him. “We’ll have sponsors lining up just itching for a chance to supply you with gifts.”

“You really think so?”

“I have no doubt in my mind,” I assure him. “So, after I left, did Haymitch give you any last bits of advice?”

“Yeah,” he says, nodding. “He told me not to get involved in the initial bloodbath and as soon as the gong sounds that I should just run and find cover. He also said that my first priority after getting away from the other tributes should be finding a clean source of water.”

“That’s good advice about the water,” I tell him. “I nearly died of dehydration when I was in the arena.”

“I remember,” Peeta says, his voice so soft that it’s difficult to hear over the wind and the noise of the Capitol around us. “I tried to scrounge up all the money I could so I’d be able to send you some water. I didn’t actually manage to do it, though, so I was glad when you found the stream.”

“You’re too nice, Peeta,” I admonish. “You’re going into the arena tomorrow and if you keep being like this, it’s going to get you killed.”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t change myself just for the sake of surviving,” Peeta tells me. “I’ll be fine with dying as long as I die as myself.”

I grip his arm tightly, and for a moment I‘m afraid that I‘m hurting him. “You listen to me, I will never be okay with you dying, so you have to do whatever you need to do to make sure that you come back to me.”

“Okay, Katniss,” he says and he gives me a small kiss on my temple and I can’t help but think that he’s just saying that to appease me. 

“So, yeah, immediately get away from the bloodbath and find some water, those are good ideas. After that, you need to find some food; you did well at the edible plant station, right?”

“I had a little trouble with the berries part, but the trainer assured me that I should be all right.”

“Good. After that you just need to avoid the Careers at all cost,” I advise. “And the boy from District 11, okay? And don’t trust anyone in there, especially that girl from District 5. But more important than that, you need to forget about any sort of alliance with Misu. She’s dangerous and she’s looking to kill you.”

“I don’t want to kill her.”

“I understand that, but if it’s between her and you, you would kill her then, right?”

“Yes,” Peeta says. 

“Good,” I say. “Because it just might come down to that.”

“I hope it doesn’t.”

“Me too,” I say, because I truly hope that it doesn’t. I am not sure if Peeta would survive the encounter unscathed emotionally, at least.

We’re quiet again and I know that I should tell him to go to bed; he probably won’t get much sleep, but he should have the chance to get as much as he can. But I can’t do it; not until I ask him the question I probably shouldn’t ask him.

“Peeta?”

“Hmm?”

“Did you mean it?” I ask him, and then realize that he probably has no idea what I‘m talking about. “Did you mean what you told Caesar at the interview? About me, I mean.”

He doesn‘t even hesitate before he answers, “Yes.” 

I turn in his arms so that I’m looking up at his face and I see that he’s sporting a worried expression. I understand that this might be the last moment I ever have with him and I know that I can’t waste it. I take his wind-chilled face in my hands and lower it so I can kiss him.

It’s my first kiss, so I have nothing to compare it to, but I know that what Peeta and I are sharing is something special. A delicious warmth envelops my whole body and I lose track of everything around me except for Peeta. 

When the kiss ends, we are both panting slightly and he lowers his forehead to touch mine. “Wow,” he says and I know just what he means.

“Okay, and now you have to go to bed,” I say, moving out of his arms. “I know that it’s probably impossible, but you have to try to get some sleep. Even a few minutes tonight might end up saving your life tomorrow.”

He looks surprised at the sudden professional tone. “O-okay. So, I guess I should go, then.”

I nod at him and he stares at me for a few seconds before he nods himself and turns away. He’s almost to the door when my will breaks down.

“Peeta?” I say and he doesn’t turn. The wind is so loud that he probably doesn’t hear me. “PEETA!”

This time he does hear me and he looks at me over his shoulder. This isn’t how I should do it, I know, but I have no other choice.

“I LOVE YOU!”

His face goes through a number of emotions before it settles on a grin that looks like it might tear his face in two. “THANK YOU!”

And then he goes inside, leaving me alone on the roof with the hope that this wasn’t the last time I get to be with him.


	11. The Boy (and the Rumor) that Saves Her

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A conversation with Katniss' least favorite person.

I leave the roof a few minutes after Peeta and I go to my room. I need to get some sleep myself, or at least try to. While our tributes are in the arena, Haymitch and I will be able to take turns to rest; but I know that I will want to stay awake as often as possible for Peeta.

I dress in a comfortable nightgown and slip into Peeta’s jacket again before I climb into bed, and immediately the tears come again. And this time they are accompanied by heart-wrenching sobs that rack my body. I don’t know for how long I cry, it feels like ages; but at some point I must have fallen asleep, because, the next thing I know, I’m awoken by my prep team.

The trio is uncharacteristically solemn and I can’t understand why. Usually, my prep team is all keyed up on the morning that the Hunger Games start. I know that their somber mood can’t be from worry for Misu’s safety, as they had assured me how little they liked her. 

It’s not until Flavius asks me how Peeta and I said goodbye that I realize the reason for the lack of cheeriness: they’re all wrapped up in the tragic love story that is Peeta and me.

“Well we-” I start, but I don’t know how to continue. That had been an extremely private moment and sharing it is the last thing I want to do. But I also don’t want to be rude and tell them to mind their own business. “We went up to the roof and we said our goodbyes up there.”

“That’s all you’re going to tell us?” Flavius asks, his purple-tinted lips curling up in a small smile.

“You should be happy she gave us that much,” Venia says, and I give the woman a grateful look.

“But we want details,” Octavia whines.

“And we’ll get them, eventually,” Venia promises the others and I force myself not to roll my eyes. “By the way, Katniss, you looked adorable this morning all wrapped up in Peeta’s jacket.”

I blush furiously and the three of them have a good chuckle before starting a discussion about when it was they knew that Peeta and I were perfect for each other. I try to tune them out because my chest tightens with every recollection of us that they throw out so casually.

When I’m all made up, they help me into the dress for the day. Most days during the Games, I’ll be able to wear whatever I want; but today I have to look my best for the initial wave of sponsors. Once again, more of my body is exposed than is dressed, but I can’t find it in me to care.

“Here’s your jacket,” Venia says, handing it to me. Only once it’s in my arms do I realize that it is Peeta’s jacket that I had on earlier. “Cinna sent along a different one, but I’m sure he won’t mind the replacement.”

“Thank you,” I say, pulling the jacket on. The weight of it on my shoulders will be a constant reminder of what I’m striving for. 

As my prep team slips out of the room, I find myself missing Cinna’s calming presence. But he’s with Misu, traveling to the arena. And I’m a little envious of Portia, who at the moment, is with Peeta. I sincerely hope that she manages to convince him to eat or drink something. 

I, myself, only manage a quick breakfast before Effie and Haymitch come to collect me and the three of us travel to the Games Headquarters. We have never been a particularly chatty bunch with each other, but today there is no conversation at all. Even our constantly bubbly Effie is subdued; making her outrageous pink wig all the more ridiculous in comparison.

At our arrival at the Headquarters, we tend to go our separate ways trying to score as many sponsorships as possible. As I get ready to go, Effie takes ahold of my wrist. I lift my eyes from her hand to her face and she gives me a sad look.

“We will bring him back to you,” she says fiercely, and gives my arm a squeeze before letting go.

I give her a quick nod because I am pretty sure that I can’t trust my voice at this moment; and at that, she turns on those elaborate heels of hers and heads off in a different direction. 

“The impossible has happened,” Haymitch says from behind me and I jump a little in surprise. “The boy has got Effie to care about something other than being promoted to a _better district_.”

“He’s special that way,” I manage to get out and I’m pleased that my voice only cracked once.

“That he is,” he agrees. 

Now that I’m in the Games Headquarters, I realized that I should be dazzling and effervescent. Today will be a true test of my acting abilities and I hope that I’m not as bad as Finnick and Johanna have made it sound. 

And I know what the first step should be. Unhappily, I start taking off Peeta’s jacket when Haymitch stops me. “No, keep it on.”

“But my dress…” I complain.

“You will get more sponsors with that wrapped around you than your cleavage ever will,” Haymitch tells me. “Don’t bother with smiling. The Capitol thinks your heartbroken about Peeta going into the arena today, so give them that.”

“I AM heartbroken,” I spit out.

Haymitch softens slightly, “I know, but we have a job to do.”

He’s right and while the tragic love story itself is going to do a lot of the work for us, I still have to put in some effort to make sure we get as much money as we can possibly get.

As I watch Haymitch go over to talk to a man who I can smell the liquor on his breath from where I’m standing, I am nearly bowled over by a hug from Nikia Blith. She’s always been a big spender, and I am genuinely happy to see that she sought me out this morning.

“Oh, Katniss, this must be so terrible for you!” Nikia exclaims and holds me out at arms length to take a look at me. A gasp. “Is that his jacket?”

“Yes,” I say, and swallow my need for privacy. “I just needed to have something of his, you know, to get me through today.”

“Oh, of course, darling!” She has blue tinted tears running down her cheeks suddenly. “I just want you to know that you have my support. I’ll have some money transferred to Peeta’s account as soon as the games start!”

“Thank you,” I say. “It means so much to me.”

“Oh, it’s the least I can do,” she tells me and I give her a small smile. “I just hope he makes it out! I would be willing to pay anything to see your reunion with him! There’s Taygen!”

Nikia waves Taygen Torrklin over and my skin begins to crawl. Taygen is very important in the Capitol; he has money and influence and powerful friends. He’s also had his eyes on me since day one. 

He slithers over and bends down to kiss the back of my hand. It feels slimy after he lets go, but I resist the urge to wipe it off on something. 

“Taygen, it’s so very good to see you!” Nikia gushes. “Did you see what Katniss is wearing?”

Taygen’s eyes fall to my chest, indiscreetly. Unfortunately for him, the jacket does a good job of preserving my modesty. He recognizes the article of clothing and his disappointment is obvious.

“How are you doing with this whole nasty business, my dear?” He is looking at my face intensely and I don’t know what he wants from me.

“Not well,” I admit. “I keep wishing that I had spent more time with Peeta.”

“Of course,” he says and there‘s a strange twinge of something in his eyes. “But you did manage to find _some_ time to spend with him last night?”

“Yes,” I say. I remember how curious my prep team was earlier and say, “He and I went up to the roof alone and said our goodbyes there.”

Nikia almost swoons but Taygen seems aggravated by that, and I’m afraid that I’ve said something wrong.

“How very romantic! Don’t you think so, Taygen?” Nikia asks and he gives her a swift nod. “Of course you do! We are all so excited about this! I‘m sorry, I‘m talking up a storm, I‘m sure Taygen wants to tell you that he‘s going to sponsor Peeta! Isn‘t that right?”

I could kiss Nikia. She has put Taygen on the spot and he has no choice but to agree. And since sponsoring is so very public, he will have to follow through on this verbal agreement.

“Of course,” he mutters with an edge to his voice. “I wouldn’t dream of depriving Katniss of my help.”

“Thank you so much for your generosity,” I tell him. “I will be eagerly awaiting your donation.”

“I am sure you will,” he says as he bends down to kiss my hand again. We lock eyes and I can’t shake the feeling that I am not going to enjoy the consequences that will stem from this meeting.

\---------

Some time later, I am trying to make my way to the designated station for the District 12 mentors. My head is reeling from all the strong perfumes, loud colors, and pitying words from all the potential sponsors that I spoke with. Many, if not all, will be making a donation for Peeta, I have no doubt. I am nearly at my destination when I am stopped by a Peacekeeper.

“Your presence is requested by President Snow,” he tells me and my heart drops to my feet. “Please follow me.”

I nod and allow myself to be led up to the President’s suite. Meanwhile, I am agonizing over every little thing I have done since arriving at the Capitol. I must have angered him somehow, and I am convinced that I’ve been summoned so he can tell me how he’s going to kill Peeta.

I arrive at Snow’s private area and Snow dismisses all the Peacekeepers from the room. He offers me a seat and I accept, knowing that my legs won’t be able to hold my weight for much longer.

“So, we ended up with an interesting group of children this year,” he says, folding his hands over his lap. 

The smell of blood and roses makes me dizzy and I am having trouble keeping down my breakfast. I swallow hard, “I suppose we did.”

“I’ve heard that you have a particularly strong feeling for one of your own tributes,” he tells me. “Misu, right?”

I am not sure that I’ve heard him correctly. “Misu?”

He tilts his head. “Is it not true that you dislike her? I would think, with the level of hatred she has for you, that you would have at least a little animosity towards her-- Especially after she attacked you last night.”

My hand goes to my cheek but I already know that there’s no physical sign of the slap. No one in my prep team even commented on it, and they covered my face in makeup anyway. “I’m not terribly fond of her.”

“She didn’t make the choice to save Peeta hard for you, did she?” Snow picks at the rose in his lapel. 

“No.”

His surgically enhanced lips curl into a smile. “I do get the feeling, however, that you had your mind made up about who you were going to save long before the first time Misu ever spoke to you.”

“I don’t know what you mean…”

“Come now, Miss Everdeen,” he scolds me. “I thought that after the incident with your friend last year, we decided to always be honest with one another.”

I nod, remembering that horrible conversation on the heels of Gale’s death in the arena. We had made an agreement, as an effort to not waste each other’s time, to never lie to each other. 

“You’re right,” I tell him. “I had decided to put all my effort into saving Peeta the second I heard Effie say his name.”

He is pleased with my honesty. “You know that was purely luck, correct? I had no hand in this reaping.”

“I know.”

“If I had,” he begins before pausing for effect. “He wouldn’t have been the one I would have chosen.”

Of course he wouldn’t; Snow would have picked Prim or Rory or someone else I had an obvious connection with. No one knew about my feelings for Peeta; not even me, it seems. 

“I don’t know what you want me to say to that.”

“Nothing, really,” he tells me. “I was just making a statement. I am curious, however, how this affection for Peeta came about.”

I will not tell him about the bread incident when I was 11; I just know Snow would find a way to use it against me. “He gave my sister bread when I was in the arena.”

“He made sure your sister was fed while you were unable to provide for her yourself,” he says and I can tell that he is mulling it over. “Yes, I believe that. You love your sister very much and would be indebted to anyone who went out of their way to show her kindness.”

“And Peeta’s very kind,” I offer.

“Of course he is.” Snow takes a stack of papers and photos off the small table beside him and begins leafing through them. “And when exactly did gratitude turn into something more substantial?”

“I don’t really know,” I say honestly. “I only know when I realized it.”

“And when was that?”

“Last night,” I tell him. 

“Really? So recently?” Snow looks up from the papers in his hands. “I would have thought it happened before your interview with Mr. Flickerman.”

I cringe at that. “Well, I thought that it was only a silly little crush when I did the interview.”

“So what you are telling me is that the feelings you have for him now run deeper than a mere girlish infatuation?”

“Yes.”

“And your feelings for him are the only reason that you are traipsing around wearing his jacket?” Snow gives me a pointed look.

“It’s not the only reason,” I admit. “But it is the main reason.”

“You know that I do not appreciate lying,” Snow says. When I open my mouth to protest, he continues, “No, I know you didn’t lie to me, I’m referring to what you told Mr. Torrklin earlier.”

“What lie did I tell Taygen?” I ask, having no idea what he could be talking about as I am pretty sure that I didn’t lie to the man.

Snow looks surprised. “I was going to get upset about you lack of honesty with me, but it seems like you really have no idea what to what I’m referring.”

“That’s because I don’t.”

“You don’t remembering telling him that you had relations with young Mr. Mellark on the roof of the Training Center?”

My face is on fire and I seem to have developed a problem speaking. “I-I-I don‘t… No, I didn’t… We never…”

“Are you quite certain that you didn’t tell him that?” Snow asks me. “Because Mr. Torrklin seemed rather convinced that you had.”

“I did tell him that Peeta and I went to the roof,” I say, trying to recall my exact words. “But all I said was that we said our goodbyes up there!”

Snow laughs and I am sickened at the sound. “Of course you did; he does have a habit of misunderstanding people. But he seemed so sure, and I thought it was your clever way of making sure that the bidding for your first time would be cancelled.” 

And all the blood that had rushed to my face immediately drains from it. “I didn’t even think about that.”

“I know that now, so don’t worry,” he says as soothingly as he can muster. “But you could see why I was so very upset with you.”

“But you’re not upset with me now?”

“Not at all,” he says with what I assume is supposed to be a reassuring smile. “In fact, I’ve decided to do you a favor.”

Uh-oh, that is not good. “What kind of favor?”

“I am going to cancel the bidding for your virginity anyway,” he tells me.

“Why?”

“I thought you would be pleased,” he says to me.

“I am, but that’s not why you’re doing it.”

“No, you’re right,” he agrees. “I’m cancelling it because everyone is assuming that you and Peeta are lovers.”

“But we’re not!”

“I know, but all that matters is that everyone believes that you are,” he tells me. “And no one is going to want to buy what no longer exists.”

I feel sick to my stomach. I hadn’t wanted my purity sold to the highest bidder, but this wasn’t the way that I had wanted to avoid it.

“I didn’t actively do anything to sabotage it,” I say because I’m worried that he’s going to retaliate. “And Peeta didn’t do anything at all!”

“I am aware of this and worry not,” he says. “Your dear Mr. Mellark isn’t going to feel any nasty repercussions of this little incident.”

“He’s not?”

“I promise you that he will not,” Snow says, holding up his hands. “I very much like the boy. In fact, I am thinking of donating some money into his account. What do you think about that?”

I don’t know what I think about that. It isn’t unheard of for the President to sponsor a tribute, but it happens rarely enough that it is a big deal when he does.

“Why would you do that?” I ask. He must have an ulterior motive because I know Snow doesn’t have an altruistic bone in his body.

“Because I want him to win,” he tells me and I know he’s not lying. “I have very big plans for him.”

“What plans?”

“You’ll find out about them soon enough,” he promises. He looks up at the clock on the wall. “It is almost time for the Games to begin; you should probably be heading down to your room.”

I nod as I stand up to leave. “Of course, President Snow.”

“Miss Everdeen? One more thing before you go,” he says and he holds out something for me. Fearing a trap, I move cautiously towards him and take the offered sheet. “If he does win, I hope you know that I am going to want a repeat performance of this. In front of all of Panem.”

I look down at what he gave me to find a photograph of Peeta and me on the roof. Kissing.

“I don’t think that is too much to ask a girl and a boy in love, do you?”

“No,” I say, my hands shaking. I feel completely violated at the moment and I have to fight myself to keep from tearing the picture up into tiny pieces. “Was that all?”

“Yes, you’re dismissed,” he tells me, obviously pleased with how our conversation went. “We’ll speak again soon, and do be on the look out for my donation.”

“I will and thank you,” I say as I’m backing out of the room. The second I’ve cleared the threshold, I am off like a shot. I’m nearly running back to the mentoring station, afraid that if I slow down even a smidge that someone will catch my arm and send me back to see Snow. 

No one even looks my way and there are no further incidents preventing me from entering the room. Haymitch is already in there and has probably been there for a while from the look of things.

“Took you long enough,” he says sourly. “I was beginning to think that you weren’t going to make it back in time.”

“I would have been back earlier,” I tell him. “But I had to go see Snow.”

“What happened?”

“He wanted to talk. Apparently, Taygen Torrklin misunderstood something I said and because of it Snow had to cancel the bidding war for… me.”

“That sounds serious.”

“He promised he wasn’t going to punish Peeta for it,” I say, taking a seat near him. “In fact, Snow’s going to sponsor him.”

“That’s not a good thing.”

“I know that,” I assure him. 

Just then a loud buzzer sounds and the large screens in front of us hum to life. We are treated to a wide shot of the Cornucopia. Shots of the arena are shown from different perspectives, and I can see woods, lakes, streams, cliffs, and a field of some grain I can’t identify.

Then it’s a shot of the Cornucopia again as we see the tributes being lifted into the arena. It takes me a few seconds to find Peeta and my heart starts pounding. It’s going to start any second now.

And then Claudius Templesmith’s voice booms out, “ _Ladies and Gentlemen, let the Seventy-forth Hunger Games begin_!”


	12. The Boy Who Didn't Listen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Hunger Games have started and the Bloodbath begins...

Sixty. The following sixty seconds will feel like they last forever. Fifty- nine. And I can’t decide if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. Fifty-eight. For, once the gong goes off, the Games will truly begin and the dying will start. Fifty-seven. If Peeta can survive the first half hour of the games, (fifty-six) then his chances will increase dramatically. Fifty-five. Usually only a little more than half of the tributes survive the initial bloodbath.

Fifty-four. I look around and find Misu. Fifty-three. She’s positioned four tributes to Peeta’s left. Fifty-two. Even without a close-up on her face, (fifty-one) I can see the glare that she shoots Peeta when she notices where he is.

Fifty. It is so awful being able to see all the tributes standing on their platforms; (forty-nine)it’s a perfect reminder of what the Games are really about. Forty- eight. Twenty-four children all hoping to be the one to make it out of the arena. Forty-seven. Twenty-three tributes will only return home in a box. Forty-six. And all of it happens in the name of entertainment. Forty-five. I know that I am no better. Forty-four. Right now, I am hoping for the deaths of 23 people, (forty-three) just so the boy that I love will come back to me.

Forty-two. I notice that there seems to be a lot of stuff strewn around the Cornucopia this year. Forty-one. I mean, there’s always supplies there, (forty) but it seems like they increased the amount. Thirty-nine. There’s a large knife with an ornate handle about seventy paces in front of Peeta. Thirty-eight. He could probably defend himself quite well if he could race in there real quick and grab it. Thirty-seven. But it’s not worth the risk. Thirty-six. I hope he just runs past it all, (thirty-five) and takes cover in the thick expanse of woods on the other side. Thirty-four. I am not pleased when I see him notice the knife. Thirty-three. I don’t like the way he’s looking at it. Thirty-two. He better forget all about it.

Thirty-one. I check on Misu again. Thirty. And by the way her eyes are darting all around, (twenty-nine) I can tell she‘s not going to run. Twenty-eight. She’s looking for something specific. Twenty-seven. I have no idea what it could be, (twenty-six) but I can’t help but hope she doesn’t find it.

Twenty-five. Haymitch sneaks a quick glance at me. Twenty-four. He thinks I didn’t notice. Twenty-three. He’s worried about me; (twenty-two) he’s afraid that I’m going to fall to pieces. Twenty-one. But he shouldn’t be worried about me, (twenty) he should be concerning himself with keeping our boy alive.

Nineteen. Not too much time is left now. Eighteen. The anxiety boils in me, (seventeen) and my stomach is in knots. Sixteen. I wonder if Peeta is thinking of me. Fifteen. I hope so, (fourteen) and I hope that the thought is enough to help him through this next part. Thirteen. My heart is beating hard and fast in my chest. Twelve. My breath catches in my throat. Eleven. I look at Peeta one more time.

Ten. _Please, Peeta, don’t forget what I told you._

Nine. _Don’t fight here, just run._

Eight. _Find some cover and some water._

Seven. _And stop being so nice._

Six. _Beware of Misu._

Five. _She’s dangerous._

Four. _Don’t ever give up._

Three. _Stay alive._

Two. _Come back to me._

One. _I love you!_

And there’s the gong, 

Suddenly, the screen is fragmented into 3 different sections, one focusing on each of the District 12 tributes and one showing what is currently being televised. Peeta’s screen is the one on the left; and I can see that he is off and running, which is a good sign. He’s looking all around him, which I guess isn’t a terrible idea; but I wish he would just focus on where he’s going. He’s at the knife and he stops running and picks it up. Fine, it was on the way, but get going again, already. And he does; but now, he’s going the wrong way.

“What is he doing?” Haymitch asks.

“I don’t know!” I say. Even though I know that he can‘t hear me, I ask him, “Where are you going?”

He answers me in a way, when he stops behind the District 2 girl. She’s busy throwing knives at someone and thankfully doesn’t notice his approach. Peeta takes advantage of her distraction and bashes her in the head with the ornate handle of the knife. She crumples to the floor, but she’s obviously still alive. One quick stab of the knife would correct that, though. I can’t believe Peeta’s luck to be able to get rid of a Career so early in the game, and, from what I’ve heard, a dangerous one at that. But the stab doesn’t come; instead, Peeta’s just standing above the prone girl looking at something off-screen. He gives a quick nod to someone or something and then looks down at the barely conscious girl at his feet and still he does nothing. 

“What is he doing? Why doesn’t he just finish her off?” Haymitch is as exasperated as I am.

“I don’t know!” I reply once again and pull Peeta‘s jacket around me tighter. 

He has hesitated too long because someone is coming at him, knife in hand. No, not someone. It’s Misu and her eyes are full of rage and determination. Peeta grabs a nearby orange backpack and takes off running again. Mercifully, he’s going in the direction of the woods again. 

My attention turns to the section dedicated to my female tribute. Misu reaches the girl who hasn’t recovered yet. There is no hesitation as Misu leans down and slits the throat of the District 2 girl. No sooner has the deed been done than Misu suddenly jumps away, narrowly missing getting impaled by a short sword. The boy from District 2 is enraged and lunges for her again, but Misu leaps safely away. She has one hand up and she seems to be talking to the boy. I wish I could hear what she’s saying, but the only shot wired for sound right now is the middle screen which shows the televised content. And that’s busy with a fight between the boy from 11 and the boy from 4.

Whatever she is saying to him seems to give him pause and he lowers his weapon. He gives a quick nod and she jumps forward and places a deep kiss on his lips.

“What was that?” Haymitch asks, echoing my own sentiments.

“I think she just offered herself to join the Careers,” I tell him, and I’m so disgusted by her actions that I turn my attention back to Peeta.

He’s made it to the woods and he’s still running. Good. Now that Misu has joined up with the Careers, she’s more dangerous than ever; so please try and put as much distance between the two of you as possible. I’m watching his screen exclusively, so I’m grateful when Haymitch updates me on Misu’s status.

“She’s got another one,” Haymitch says, point to where Misu stands over the bleeding body of the boy from District 3. 

“How’d she get him?”

“The boy tried to talk to her about something and I thought she was agreeing to it,” Haymitch says. “Then she got real close to him and stabbed in the chest.”

“You know he probably saw her talk her way into the Career Pack and thought to do the same,” I tell him.

“Maybe,” he says gruffly and I know he’s as unhappy as I am about Misu’s choice in allies. 

Haymitch and I skip right over lunch, the anxiety making it impossible to focus on food. Peeta had not exaggerated his stamina as he continues his pace long past where I would have been able to. But even so, I am less than thrilled when I see him finally stop. He is pulling the backpack off and checking its contents. He doesn’t seem too upset by what he finds, but he doesn’t exactly look thrilled either. Peeta pulls the pack back on and his eyes dart around him, searching.

“I guess there wasn’t any water in the pack,” Haymitch says.

Of course that’s what he had been hoping for. He should have known better than that, though. It would have made it too easy and nothing in the arena is ever easy. Peeta finds no signs of water and takes off again at a fairly fast pace.

During his mad dash away from the Cornucopia I hadn’t seen any signs of water and I have a horrible thought.

“Do you think the lake’s the only water source in the arena?” I ask Haymitch, scared of his answer.

“It wouldn’t be surprising,” he tells me. “It would be a good way to ensure constant fighting.”

He’s right, it would; but I can’t let myself dwell on such hopeless thoughts. There must be a pond or a stream or something, I tell myself. There must be.

After what feels like an hour, Haymitch says, “Looks like the action’s finally dying down.”

On Misu’s screen, I can see that she’s walking towards a group of surviving tributes. I am surprised when I count only four; apparently, the Careers lost 2 of their own in the initial bloodbath. I don’t think such a thing has ever happened before. After quick inspection I realize that the boy from Four didn’t make it and I hope that Finnick really hadn’t been attached to him.

Some of the group doesn’t seem too thrilled with Misu’s presence. Thankfully, we have sound since it’s being televised. 

“Have you gone mad, Cato?” It’s the girl from District 1 addressing the boy from 2. “Why didn’t you kill her?”

“She’s good with a knife,” Cato growls in reply. “Besides, I think she earned it by killing Clove.”

He must be referring to his District partner and I can see that some of the group have been swayed by this argument.

“She only got the chance because Lover-Boy knocked her out,” the District 1 girl points out. “I saw it go down. Clove didn’t even have a chance to put up a fight.”

“What does it matter how it happened?” Misu asks. “She’s dead because I killed her and if Cato says I’m in, I’m in.”

The boy from 1 stops his District partner from countering. “Let it go, Glimmer; we don’t need to get into a fight over this right now.”

Glimmer glares at Misu who gladly returns it but awards the boy from her district with a nod. “You’re right.”

“We should probably start gathering up the supplies,” suggests the District 4 girl. “Let’s split up, it’ll go faster that way.”

The group separates with the exception of Glimmer and her District partner. They stick close to each other and when the rest of the group is out of earshot, Glimmer continues to express her dissent.

“I should’ve killed her the moment she turned her back on me,” Glimmer says, grabbing at a nearby kit.

“And you would’ve angered Cato which would have been an extremely stupid thing to do,” the boy reminds her. “Think of it this way: she’s easy prey when everyone else is wiped out, and she took out Clove for us.”

“You do have a point, Marvel,” Glimmer says, appearing to calm down. “She just made our chances at winning that much higher.”

“We just need to keep to the plan, keep letting Cato think that he’s calling all the shots,” Marvel tells her and she nods in agreement. 

Then the two of them split off and go to work clearing out the Cornucopia. It takes them a fair amount of time and it’s not until late afternoon that they have finished their task. As the last of the supplies have been transported to a large pile near the edge of the lake, five of them head further away from the Cornucopia. As they do, the screen showing the televised content fills with hovercrafts. I can’t bear to watch the collection of the bodies and return my focus to Peeta.

He’s still running, but he’s showing signs of fatigue. Stopping suddenly, he hides behind a tree and narrows his eyes. It’s not until he cups his hand over his ear that I realize that he’s trying to listen for something. Using his ear as guide he moves quickly through some bushes and comes to stop in front of a fast moving stream.

“He found water,” I tell Haymitch. 

He sighs in relief. “Good. I was afraid I was going to have a repeat of my experience with you.”

Peeta sits down by the stream and takes off his backpack. He opens the flap and pulls out two bottles: a half-gallon plastic one that is empty and a small glass one filled with what I assume is iodine. I am grateful for that, because the last thing we needed was for him to get sick from unpurified water like I did.

As he’s filling up the plastic bottle and putting drops of iodine in the water, the first cannon sounds. From their respective places, Misu and Peeta look up at the noise. It sounds again, and again and again until I have counted 12 times and then there’s no more. 12 shots meaning 12 deaths. We are halfway through the tributes already and not even 12 hours have passed in the arena.

The Career Pack cheers at there only being 11 more deaths to go but Peeta seems saddened by the large amount of shots. Still, he finishes purifying the water and sets it aside, as Misu and her allies start going through their mountain of supplies to see what they ended up with.

Just then, my personal computer starts pinging. It the sound signifying that we have received donations from sponsors. I open it up and check Peeta’s account; when I see the amount of money I nearly pass out. The number is so large that I am convinced for a second that there has been a mistake.

Haymitch whistles from beside me. “The boy did good, didn’t he? Look at all those zeroes.”

“How many of them, do you think, are from Snow?” I ask, my fingers nervously tracing the number on the screen.

“Too many,” he answers simply, and I know that he’s right.

I check Misu’s account and am not surprised to find that she has a healthy amount herself. Her decision to join up with the Careers probably impressed some wealthy sponsors enough to send some money her way.

“Peeta’s probably hungry,” I say, already in the menu that shows the prices for gifts. “I think we should send him something.”

“Already?”

“We can afford it,” I say pointedly. “Besides, it’s only a little something to remind him that we’re rooting for him.”

“Send him some bread, then,” Haymitch says. “I’m sure he’ll appreciate that.”

I look through the list and find the closest thing possible to the bread that he gave me so many years ago. It’s not an exact replica but it’s similar enough that he won’t be able to miss the symbolism, even if it won’t be burnt.

I press the corresponding button and it takes a few seconds for the parachute to appear on screen. The televised shot is now of Peeta as he takes my gift in his hands. He examines the bread in his hands and gives a soft laugh of recognition.

“Thank you, Katniss,” he says, as he starts eating the hearty bread. 

Almost immediately, his account increases by six times the amount it took to buy the bread.

\--------

A few hours later, nothing else exciting has happened. Peeta has spent the time resting and refilling his bottle and Misu and the rest of the Careers have been divvying up the supplies.

We have a quick dinner, just enough food to keep us going. And I notice that Haymitch looks bored and he’s probably thinking how he could use a drink. I tap him on the shoulder. “Go take a nap,” I tell him. “The Careers are settling down for dinner and Peeta’s just sitting there.”

He nods. “Fine. Wake me if anything happens.”

“I will,” I promise, and he heads into one of the resting rooms.

It is not long before Peeta stands up again, stretching. He starts walking, following the stream down. I am glad that he’s moving again, but I dislike that the stream seems to be leading him back in the direction of the Cornucopia. I know that Peeta is far enough away from the Career Pack after the hours of running earlier, but I wish he was moving away from them instead of towards them.

Night falls and Peeta continues walking. It’s not until the anthem begins to play that he sits down and stares up at the sky. In the right screen, Misu looks up, too. The middle screen begins to show the photos of all the tributes that have died today. The first one they show is Clove and I can see that Peeta tenses up at that. Then comes the boy from District 3, and I’m not surprised to see that Misu has no reaction to his picture. The boys from District 4 and 5. Both tributes from 6 and both from 7; which means that Johanna and Kriila are both done for the Games. District 8 lost their boy, but 9 lost both of them. And the last picture they show is the girl from District 10. Her photo is then replaced by the Capitol seal and the music swells and then fades.

Both of my tributes are still alive and I can’t remember the last time that District 12 managed to get two tributes past the halfway mark. I wonder how the people back home are reacting to this turn of events. No doubt the majority will be rooting for Peeta, especially after Misu joined the Careers. I hope that Misu’s mother is able to come up with a reasonable excuse for when her younger children ask why their big sister did such an unpopular thing.

Peeta starts walking again for a little longer when he comes to an area with a large thick shrub. He circles around it a few times poking at it and moving the branches a bit. Then he gives a quick nod and pulls out a rolled up sleeping bag from the backpack. He pushes the bag inside the shrub before he follows it, going out of sight. It’s a good hiding place and I’m glad that it was shown on the television because it illustrates how resourceful Peeta is.

The pings from the computer tell me that the sponsors got the same idea.

My attention and that of the center screen shifts to Misu and her companions. They are trying to decide how to break up the look-out shifts. After some minor disagreements, the schedule is agreed upon and Misu and Cato take the first watch. Almost immediately after the other three have disappeared into the tents they have set up, Misu leans towards Cato and tries to kiss him again.

He pushes her away. “What are you doing?”

She looks up at him through her eyelashes, seductively. “I just thought, since we were alone…”

Cato looks her over as Misu angles herself to show off her best features. “Later,” he growls. 

It’s not hard to see the disappointment and frustration on Misu’s face, as it doesn‘t seem like she‘s trying to hide it. While most people will think those emotions are there for the obvious reasons, I know better. She’s upset that he brushed off her attempts to sink her claws deeper into him. 

“You’re right,” she coos as she positions herself behind him. She starts rubbing her hands over the back of his neck. “We need to pick off a few more weaklings before we can think about having some fun.”

Cato snorts. “Picking off some weaklings _will be_ fun.”

“True,” she says, massaging his shoulders. “Especially when we’re hunting down Peeta and making him scream.”

“What do you have against Lover-Boy, anyway?” Cato asks, his curiosity creeping into his voice. He chuckles. “Did he break your heart when he confessed his love for your mentor?”

“As if I would ever fall for such a soft-hearted fool,” Misu says, barely keeping the disgust out of her tone. “I prefer my men to be like you; strong, smart and entirely dangerous.”

“Shouldn‘t you be scared of me, then?”

“Who says that I’m not?” Misu asks, her voice going husky. “But maybe I like being frightened.”

And with that she leans over his shoulder and kisses him. This time he allows it but only for a few seconds before he pulls away from her violently.

He glares at her and Misu puts on her best innocent face, which to me looks completely unnatural on her. She lowers her head demurely and says, “I’m sorry; I know you said not to do that now, but I just couldn’t help myself.”

“Fine,” he says, trying to sound unbothered but I can tell that maybe he’s thinking that she’s a little dangerous, too.

Cato makes sure to move out of her reach and the two of them sit in silence for a while, just watching the surrounding area. Between Misu’s unexciting look out and Peeta being completely invisible in his hiding place, I quickly grow bored. Which is why I grow so pleased when Haymitch comes back out of the resting room. 

“Anything exciting happen?” Haymitch asks me as he drops into the armchair next to mine.

“Not really,” I say, trying not to yawn. I point at the shot of the shrub in the left screen. “Peeta’s in there, hopefully getting some rest. And Misu’s with Cato, taking the first watch.”

“And I can guess that the other tributes must be just as thrilling if they’re doing footage from earlier instead of a live feed,” Haymitch surmises They show recaps nightly during the mandatory viewing hours, but those ended quite a while ago, with the slideshow of the day’s dead tributes.

I fix my eyes on the center screen where they are showing scenes from the earlier fight at the Cornucopia. Being so focused on what was happening with Peeta and Misu, I had missed a lot of the action. Currently, they’re showing little Rue running and grabbing a small pack. Unfortunately, the boy from District 9 got there at the same time and started pulling it away from the young girl. The tug-of-war is over before it really begins when the boy suddenly keels over, a knife in his back. Another shot shows that it was Clove who threw the knife and is throwing another one. Rue just manages to lift the pack in the way, and the weapon gets stuck in the fabric. Cloves prepares to throw another one when Peeta comes up behind her and brains her with the handle. Rue sees this and stands up quickly; before she takes off running, however, she gives Peeta a grateful nod that he promptly returns.

“So, he saved the little girl,” Haymitch says, his voice soft.

“And he nearly got killed because of it,” I remind him as Misu’s charge at Peeta is shown. “I told him that he was too nice!”

Haymitch doesn’t answer me and instead stares at the right screen where it seems like Misu and Cato are standing looking at something off in the distance. Just then the center screen picks it up and we can hear what they’re saying.

“Do you see that?” Cato asks Misu, pointing at something.

“Is that smoke?”

“Yeah. Someone just lit a fire and basically wrote a map right to them,” he says, obviously excited. “We should wake the others and finish the kid off before they move on. Who knows? We might get lucky and it’s Lover-Boy.”

Misu shakes her head. “I can tell you that it’s not him. He’s too smart to call attention to himself like that.”

“Well, it’s someone and it’s someone who just sent us an invitation to kill them!” Cato says, and it appears that Misu’s statement has agitated him. He calls out for the others and the three other Careers emerge from their respective tents looking not quite as alert as they should be.

Cato quickly explains the situation and there’s a short discussion about who should go and who should stay. In the end, it’s decided that Misu, Cato, Glimmer, and Marvel would go take care of the person who lit the fire (and anyone else they find on the way) and that the girl from District 4 would stay behind and guard the camp.

The four of them start off towards the fire; Misu and Glimmer with their torches while Cato and Marvel grip their respective weapons. Their pace is quick, but they’re not running. Still, the four of them make horrible hunters, they’re all noisy and careless where they step. A shot of the girl from District 8 settling down in front of the fire is shown before the shot goes back to the Career Pack.

“It’s too much to hope that she realizes what a colossal mistake she is making and she takes off and leaves before Misu and the rest get there?” I ask, feeling sorry for the girl who just wanted to be warm.

“Doubtful,” Haymitch says as the screen shows the District 8 girl again. “It looks like she’s nodding off.”

“Maybe they’ll wake her with their loud footsteps and she’ll have a chance to get away,” I say, hopefully.

It takes the four of them a few hours to get to fire and when they do, the girl from District 8 is fast asleep. She rouses just in time to get up and attempt to run off before Cato comes in and runs her through with his sword.

The girl falls to her knees, the blood draining out of her body and she begins to beg for mercy from the Careers that begin to surround her. The four of them laugh at this, mocking the dying girl’s teary pleas. She keeps asking them to let her go and finally Misu has had enough and stabs her again in the chest. The girl crumples, still alive but quiet now; and it’s not long before she stops moving and the 13th cannon of the Games rings out.

“Ten more to go,” Haymitch says, but there’s not a shred of happiness on his face as he watches the Career Pack head away from the body.

With every death, Peeta’s odds of winning improve; but I know that Peeta doesn’t really stand a chance until Misu and Cato are taken care of. Still, a little piece of me rejoices when I see that the sun is starting to come up in the arena, meaning that Peeta just survived the first night.


	13. The Boy and the Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gamemakers get restless and that never ends well for the tributes.

Haymitch tries to get me off to bed but I wave him off. I’m not tired… Well, I’m not tired enough that I need to go rest. Peeta poked his head when the cannon sounded and then disappeared back into the brush. An hour later, he finally climbs back out and stuffs the sleeping bag into the backpack. He finishes the last of the water in his bottle and goes about purifying another batch. 

There’s fish in the stream and he has the great idea of trying to catch one. After a few failed attempts on his part to catch breakfast, I take pity on the boy and send him a small basket of food.

Peeta blows me a kiss in gratitude and I can feel my cheeks burn as I try to pretend that I didn’t see him. The pings give me an out and I take the opportunity to hide my face behind the computer.

Haymitch doesn’t say anything at this, but I can feel his eyes on me. Finally I turn to him, feeling defensive. “What?”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“But you’re thinking something!”

“I’m sorry, Sweetheart,” he says, with sarcasm dripping from every syllable. “I wasn’t aware that I wasn’t allowed to think.”

“You’re allowed to think,” I tell him. “But you’re not allowed to think what you are currently thinking.”

“And what am I currently thinking?” Haymitch asks, with a ghost of a smile. He’s enjoying this, isn’t he?

“You know! So, stop it,” I command. 

“Maybe you should go to bed,” he advises. “I think you might be getting a little overtired.”

“I’m fine. And I will get some sleep,” I promise. “Just not now. The day just started and I don’t want to miss anything.”

“Fine, but tonight?”

“Yeah, I’ll take my turn tonight, okay?”

This seems to appease Haymitch and he lets the subject drop. We have a fairly filling breakfast as we watch the Misu and her group make their way back to the Cornucopia where they set up their camp. 

I should have taken Haymitch’s earlier advice, however, and gone to bed. The day turns out to be dreadfully dull. I can honestly say that the highlight of the entire day was the quick shower I took in the middle of it. The Careers split up in search of more victims, always leaving someone behind to guard the camp. The arena, this year, is massive and the surviving non-Careers have dispersed quite effectively which made the search prove unfruitful. By late afternoon, Misu and her group seemed quite discouraged and (in Cato’s case) frustrated with lack of deaths.

Peeta’s day wasn’t terribly eventful either. He spent most of it walking by the stream, stopping every so often to rest and refill his bottle with water. The best source of entertainment all day happened when Peeta again tried to catch some fish in the stream. I had been forbidden to help him this time, so I was worried that he would fail and go without lunch today. It only took four failed attempts, including a terribly bad one where he ended up sitting in the stream, for him to get the hang of catching fish. He caught himself two large fish and quite skillfully went about cleaning and deboning them. 

He also proved to be a whiz at starting fires. 

Thankfully, he only left one lit long enough to cook his food. The second he was done, he doused it and moved away from it.

Even Johanna’s presence wasn’t enough to drag the day out of tedium. Now that her mentoring duties were over, she was free to spend her time doing whatever she wished. She popped in during a particular lackluster period and, after complaining of boredom for an hour straight, Haymitch snapped at her that she wasn’t making the situation anymore enjoyable. In a huff, she took off to the District 4 mentoring station; apparently, Finnick and Mags are far more entertaining company that Haymitch and me.

The sky turned orange and I spent a few moments really admiring Peeta’s favorite color and wondering if he was thinking about me. Night was going to fall, and soon the mandatory viewing would start; and as curious as I was to see how they were going to make tonight’s recaps even remotely entertaining, I decided that now would be the best time to try and get a nap. I had been up for over 36 hours now and the lack of sleep was beginning to take its toll on me.

Before I went into one of the resting rooms, I made Haymitch promise that he would come and wake me if anything interesting happened. I lied down on the supplied bed and almost immediately fell asleep.

\---------

The next thing I am aware of is being violently shaken. It takes me a few seconds to get my bearings and to realize that Johanna is standing over me. I try to blink away the sleep as I sit up in bed.

“Good, you’re finally up,” she tells me and her face is grim. “You better get out there, right now.”

My heart stops for a moment. “Is Peeta…?”

“He was still unhurt when Haymitch told me to come get you,” she says. “District 3 lost their girl, though.”

“How?” I ask as I follow her out of the resting room.

“Fire,” she replies and she takes a seat, focusing her attention on the televised action of the Games.

“Gamemaker-made fire,” Haymitch offers a more thorough explanation. “Guess they decided to spruce up the excitement for the mandatory viewing hours.”

A cold feeling curls around me as I sit the chair next to Haymitch and look up at the screens. A large wall of fire seems to be chasing after most of the tributes. Two of the exempted tributes are Marvel, still standing guard at camp, and Thresh, out in the wheat field.

Peeta and the Careers seem to be doing a fairly decent job of keeping ahead of fire, but the smoke and the heat are obviously taking a toll on them. The walls of fire stop in their tracks, which the tributes take as a sign that they can stop and rest. But they can’t; a fact all of them learn quickly as fireballs start shooting towards them and I feel that suffocating emotion coil around me tighter.

My tributes seem to be getting through this fairly safely; especially Peeta who has lucked out and only had two fireballs thrown at him and neither one came even remotely close to hitting him. In spite of his relative safety, Peeta keeps the pace up getting closer and closer to the Cornucopia. 

Misu and the Careers aren’t as lucky as they all seem to be bombarded with the ignited projectiles; but they’re doing a good job running and dodging. That is until Misu trips on a lifted root and falls down. She manages to get up quickly, but not before her left thigh is grazed by a fireball. She screams in pain; but I have to give her credit, because she doesn’t let that stop her from taking off again.

“Ouch,” Johanna says without a touch of sympathy. “You know, I would probably feel bad if she wasn’t such a hateful little creature.”

I glance over at my fellow victor, her brutal honesty making me smile a little even with that emotion still snaking around my insides. “I know exactly what you mean.”

“I think it’s stopped,” Haymitch says, bringing my attention back to the screens. It seems like he’s right, but it still takes a while for the tributes to slow their pace. 

One by one, the beleaguered tributes stop their flight and drop to the ground, coughing their lungs out. Some recover quicker than others; Cato is up within a few minutes, but his companions aren’t so lucky. 

He is furious and yells at the District 4 girl, Glimmer, and Misu to get up and get moving, and they try their best. They still have difficultly keeping up with Cato’s speed, especially with each one of them succumbing to a coughing fit every few minutes. Cato’s impatience doesn’t help the situation any, and Glimmer tries to point that out during the middle of one of her attacks.

Peeta’s trek has, unfortunately, separated him from the stream and sent him deep into the forest. His face and orange backpack are darkened from the smoke, but he generally seems unharmed. He takes a seat on a smooth flat rock and pulls out his bottle of water. He drinks only a little, trying to conserve the liquid now that it isn’t so readily available to him. Even now that Peeta is free from immediate danger, that feeling that I have not named will not let go of me.

With the excitement with the fire now over, the programming switches over to a small recap of the few watchable moments of the day. It doesn’t take long for them to start showing scenes of what happened with the fire. The death of the girl from District 3 was replayed; all her attention was on the fire behind and she didn’t notice the tree that she ran full force into. It had knocked her down hard and she didn’t have time to get up before the inferno was on her. 

Her screams as she burned are still ringing in my ears a little while later when the anthem begins to play. There are only two pictures today; the girl from District 3 and the girl from District 8. In both cases, fire played a role in their deaths; a thought that disturbs me greatly.

The Gamemakers do love their elements as a game-changing tactic. Johanna, in the forest with the plants that sucked oxygen out of the _air_ , chopping down trees and tributes alike. Poor Annie, in the flooded arena, swimming for days until everyone else drowned in the _water_. My own arena with the large hills and the destructive landslide that took out the cannibalistic Titus and buried him (and others) in the _earth_. Now, the all-consuming wall of _fire_ that threatened to shorten the life of my Peeta. That feeling tightens around me like a vice at the thought.

“So, I take back everything I said about this being a boring day,” Johanna says. “They must have been really desperate for some excitement today. It’s pretty rare to have the Gamemakers pull a stunt like this so early in the Games, right?”

“They must be under some pressure to make this one as exciting as possible,” Haymitch says and that unshakeable sensation tells me that his theory is absolutely wrong. “And it’s working. We’ve only got 10 tributes left in the arena and we’re still in the second day.”

“Who’s left?” Johanna asks, looking at the dinner menu.

I start ticking them off on my fingers. “Peeta, Misu, Cato, Glimmer, Marvel, Girl from 4...”

“Both from 11,” Haymitch offers. Of course he would be keeping track of his friend’s tributes.

“Both from 11,” I repeat, nodding. I stop to think. “The crippled boy from 10 and… Foxface!”

“Foxface?” Johanna blinks at me.

“The girl from District 5,” I explain and I bring up her photo on my computer. “Tell me that she doesn’t remind you of a fox.”

“Maybe a little,” she says. “If I squint really hard and tilt my head completely to the left.”

I glare at her but she cackles while Haymitch tries to suppress a smile. I give them both a huff, “Obviously neither of you know what a fox looks like; because if you did, you‘d both agree with me.”

“If you say so,” Johanna says in an obnoxious patronizing tone. “Anyway, I’m completely starved. Haymitch promised me dinner but the stupid fire wall interrupted everything.”

The three of us have a late dinner and there are large pockets of silence where Haymitch and I are distracted by what our tributes are doing. After the food is gone, Johanna stretches and exclaims that she’s tired.

“You can crash in my bed in the resting room,” I tell her, watching Peeta as he hunts for water. 

“What about you, Katniss?” Haymitch asks. “Where are you going to sleep?”

“I’m going to stay up,” I tell him. “I took a nap earlier, remember?”

“You were barely asleep for an hour, if that,” Haymitch argues.

“And look what happened!” I shout at him. I bite my lip, immediately regretting my outburst. That’s when I learn the name of the thing that is trying to choke the life out of me; it’s guilt. 

Haymitch and Johanna have realized it at the same time I must have, because now they are both looking at me with pity in their eyes. That just upsets me even more because they KNOW how much I hate to be pitied.

“You know that was just a coincidence, right?” Haymitch asks, putting a hand on my shoulder.

“Do I?” I slump down in my chair. “Are you telling me that it doesn’t sound like something Snow would do?”

Over my head, I see Johanna and Haymitch share a look that I don’t quite understand, but then again, I’ve always noticed the two of them having a deep understanding of each other. 

“I can’t say he wouldn’t do something like that,” Johanna says. “But I think it’s rather unlikely that it was anything other than happenstance.”

“I don’t know if I can believe that,” I tell them. “The timing was just too perfect for it to have been anything but intentional.”

“I don’t understand why you are overreacting like this. Peeta wasn’t even hurt,” Haymitch points out. “Of all the affected tributes, he came out of it looking no worse for the wear.”

“And didn’t you think it was a little odd how easy it was for him?” I ask him. “It was meant to be a warning for me, nothing more.”

“I think you’re being paranoid,” Johanna says. “Either that, or suffering from an oversized ego that would make Finnick jealous.”

“I am sick and tired of people dismissing my concerns like this,” I say. “Maybe you’re right and it was just coincidental, but I just don’t feel like testing the theory and Peeta suffering for it.”

Haymitch throws his arms up in frustration; his forced withdrawal from alcohol has left him with little patience to deal with me. “Sweetheart, it wasn’t your fault! You’re not helping anyone by staying up like this.”

“Go to bed, Haymitch,” I tell him, dismissively. “You’re getting cranky.”

Johanna groans and rolls her eyes. “Go on, Haymitch. Try and get some rest. I’ll stay here with her and try to annoy her into agreeing to take a turn in bed when you get up later, okay?”

Haymitch nods at her and sends me a dirty look before he goes into the resting room. I slump more in my seat, trying to get as comfortable as possible. Johanna climbs into Haymitch’s chair and looks at me sternly.

“You’re a real piece of work, you know that?”

I don’t even tear my eyes away from Peeta on the screen. He’s still hunting for water. “Look who’s talking.”

“Yeah, but that’s because I’m damaged,” she says.

“And who’s to say that I’m not as damaged as you are?” I ask, wishing that she had just taken the offer to go sleep in my bed.

“I do.” She juts her chin in the direction of Peeta.. “There’s no way you can look at that boy the way you do if you were.”

The guilt finally gives way and a new emotions takes it’s place: fear. I feel the tears on my cheeks before I even realize that I’m crying. “I’m so scared that I’m going to lose him.”

“I know you are, little Squirrel,” Johanna swiftly moves until she’s by my side and envelops me in an awkward hug. She’s gives me a few pats on the back before she moves away and frowns at me. “Feel better?”

I sniffle, feeling embarrassed that I broke down like this in front of Johanna, of all people. “Yeah, thanks.”

“Good,” she say moving as quickly as possible back into Haymitch’s seat. “Now do me a favor and the next time you want to cry, try to make sure that Finnick’s in the room. He’s much better at that mushy stuff than I am.”

I can’t help but to chuckle at her comment. Obviously, I think to myself, but I don’t say anything about it. After all, in spite of all that, she did try to console me and that speaks volumes about her character. I don’t think I will be able to see her in the same way again after this.

“Oh, look!” Johanna says, snapping me out of my reverie. She points to Peeta on the screen. “He’s found a small pond.”

“Thank goodness,” I say as the relief washes over me. We watch in silence as Peeta gulps down the rest of the bottle before he refills it. He takes the time to wash his face and hands in the cool water before he sets off again. 

“What’s he looking for now?” Johanna asks me, as we see Peeta checking his surroundings at every step.

I remember his actions from the previous night. “I think he’s trying to find a safe place to sleep. Which is ridiculous since I have counted at least six trees that he could have climbed.”

“And why would he want do that?”

I give her a funny look. “Because then he would be above anyone trying to attack him, obviously.”

“What if someone cuts down the tree?” Johanna asks me, and I remember that to someone from the lumber district, like her, that would be the logical conclusion to someone in a tree.

“I think that the trunks of those trees are thick enough that it shouldn’t be a concern.” I tell her.

She snorts. “Please, with a good axe I could bring any of those trees down within a few minutes.”

“Well, that would have been a concern if you were in the arena with him, but you‘re not,” I remind her. “Not everyone is as skilled with an axe as you are.”

“And not everyone can climb a tree like you can, little Squirrel,” she replies pointedly. “Seems like your boyfriend prefers to sleep on the ground.”

“He’s not my boyfriend.” I watch as Peeta finally finds a overgrown brush and starts getting things ready for his settling down for the night.

“Dirty,” she says, the smirk growing on her face. “And you still let him do all those things to you? Maybe you’re not as pure as we thought.”

“What are you talking about?”

Johanna laughs. “There’s a little rumor going around about how you said goodbye to your tribute; and it goes into very explicit details. All I have to say about it is that you should be ashamed of yourself.”

“You don’t really believe that, do you?” I ask her, fairly sure that she must only be teasing me.

“Of course not,” she tells me. “You wouldn’t have been able to hear the rumor without blushing furiously and running out of the room. However, I can probably count on one hand the number of people who don’t believe it; so for the sake of your reputation, I’d suggest you start thinking of him as your boyfriend.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I say as Peeta finally disappears for the night. With him safe and sound and out of sight, I focus my attention on Misu and her group. What should have be an easy walk back to the Cornucopia camp takes a few hours for the smoke-damaged group. As I watched them on their way back, I noticed that the smoke was not dispersing as one would have expected it to. It just seemed to permeate the air and cling to every breath the tributes tried to take.

Marvel stands up when the four of them reach the clearing. Cato, obviously in a mood, stomps right past him and heads into one of the tents without another word.

“What the hell happened?” Marvel asks the three girls as they get closer. “There’s smoke everywhere!”

“Is there, really? I hadn’t noticed,” the girl from District 4 says sarcastically before she starts hacking. “I’m going to bed.”

Marvel watches the girl leave before turning back to Misu and Glimmer, still awaiting an explanation. 

Glimmer rewards him with one after she finishes coughing herself. “The Gamemakers sent a wall of fire after us.”

“Oh, and don’t forget about the fireballs that came after that,” Misu says as she collapses on the ground. She moves her leg to examine the burn site and that’s when I get my first good luck at Misu’s injury. It’s not the worst I’ve ever seen, but it’s bad enough that I have to look away from the screen. 

“Still squeamish?” Johanna asks, obviously having noticed that I turned away. “How do you hunt?”

“It’s different,” I tell her, but I don’t expand on it because I don’t exactly have an explanation of how it’s different. 

I look back on the screen and I’m glad that it’s no longer a close up of Misu’s burns. She’s appears to be busy turning the charred pants into a pair of shorts, while still wearing them. As she’s working on her garment alteration, Marvel leans down and takes a look at her leg and whistles.

“That looks nasty,” he says. “Does it hurt?”

“What do you think?” Misu growls at him and the tears in her eyes shine in the moonlight. She’s not letting herself cry, though, and I have to begrudgingly admire her for that.

“Then why don’t you ask your mentor to send you something for it?” Glimmer asks. “That’s what mentors are for, you know.”

“You’re right,” Misu says, smirking slightly. She then raises her voice. “Hey, Haymitch, Katniss… send me something for this, will you?”

“How can you not like such a charming girl?” Johanna asks me, rolling her eyes. She looks at me in surprise when I open up the computer. “You’re not actually going to send her anything, are you?”

“I don’t want to but I’m pretty sure that I have to,” I tell her as I start looking through the gift menu. “I mean, she specifically asked me for something and she has enough money in her account to cover it.”

“Just barely enough,” Johanna says when she sees the price tag associated with the burn medication.

“Good,” I say, finalizing the purchase. “Then I’ll have an excuse for why I won’t send her anything else during the Games.”

We watch as the silver parachute lands near Misu and I can’t miss the haughty look on her face when she sees it. She immediately rubs some of the cream on her leg and she exhales with relief.

Glimmer holds out her hand for the little tub of burn medication. “Let me see it; I singed my hand as we were running.”

“No! Get your own,” Misu tells her, stuffing the jar down her shirt.

“Fine,” Glimmer says, and you can see her anger start to bubble up to the surface, but a quick head shake from her district partner calms her down. “Well, then guess who gets to play look-out first tonight. Come on, Marvel.”

Without another word, the two tributes from District 1 leave her and escape into their tents. Misu grumbles but she settles in to keep watch over the camp. As I watch her, I feel my eyelids grow heavy. I know that I should get up to keep from falling asleep, but I just feel so comfortable…

\----------

I sit up to find Haymitch, and not Johanna, sitting in his chair. I wipe at my eyes, forcing myself into a state of alertness.

Haymitch shoots me a look. “Have a nice sleep?”

“How long was I out?” I ask, noticing that it is bright in the arena.

“Almost twelve hours,” he tells me.

“Twelve hours?” I cry. “Why did you let me sleep for so long? What if something happened?”

“You needed the sleep, Sweetheart,” he tells me. “And if something bad happened, I would’ve woken you.”

“So nothing happened?”

“A lot of bickering between the Careers,” he tells me. “Seems like the smoke in the air has put them all in a bad mood.”

“It doesn’t look as thick as it did last night,” I say, examining the air. “So it must have dispersed a little.”

“It’s still bad enough that it’s affecting them, though,” Haymitch says and I can see that he wasn’t exaggerating. As the middle screen alternates between shots of all the surviving tributes, I notice that not one of them seems to be breathing or moving easily today.

Haymitch tells me how the Careers decided to make it a hunting day and that because Misu had gotten injured, she was left behind to guard the camp. She hadn’t been pleased about it, but hadn’t fought it either. 

Peeta’s day was spent looking for a water source. He hadn’t been lucky enough to find one yet and Haymitch had broken down a few hours ago and sent him a bottle of water.

I take a look around the room and notice that Johanna’s not there anymore. “Where did Jo go?”

“When I got up earlier, I sent her to go rest,” he tells me. “She apparently spent the night watching over Peeta, Misu, and you.”

“I’ll be sure to thank her when she gets up,” I tell him.

And when she does appear again, hours later, the first thing I do is thank her for it. She looks uncomfortable and waves me off, telling me that I need to stop making a big deal about it and that she didn’t really do anything.

It’s another boring day in the arena and I’m afraid that the Gamemakers will have to pull off another stunt to make things exciting when Peeta stumbles his way to a lake. It takes us both too long to realize that it’s the same one that is beside the Cornucopia. Peeta’s on the exact opposite side of the lake as the Career camp. Misu’s dozing slightly at her post and she hasn’t seen him. 

Peeta sees her and his face fills with apprehension. Apparently some of my advice stuck with him. He looks torn about what to do, but in the end he decides to fill his water bottle. He is putting the iodine drops in when he hears the sound of footsteps coming towards him.

He jumps into the nearest bush that will hide him and I feel my heart stop when I hear Cato’s voice.

“There you are! I’ve found you!”


	14. The Boy, the Hero

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peeta finds an ally in the arena...

It takes me a few second to realize the Cato wasn’t talking to Peeta. Reluctantly, I turn my full attention to the middle screen to see the four Careers at the base of a large tree, looking up at it.

“Come on down, Eleven,” Marvel shouts up. “Make this easy for us and I promise you won’t suffer… much.”

The shot shifts upward and I can see Rue perched up on one of the highest branches of the tree. She doesn’t seem even remotely tempted to take Marvel up on his not-so-generous offer.

Cato kicks at the trunk with all his strength, but the tree doesn’t even move. “She’s not coming down!”

“Maybe she can’t,” the girl from 4 reasons. “Sometimes stupid animals get so scared that the climb up something that they suddenly can’t get down from.”

“So climb up there and get her!” Cato commands. 

“Now?” She shakes her head at him. “It‘s too dark, I wouldn‘t be able to see what I was doing.”

“Then you go, Glimmer,” he says, turning to the other female.

“No way. If you’re so eager to get her, climb up there yourself,” Glimmer tells him, crossing her arms over her chest.

Cato seethes, “So, what? We just leave her be and go back to camp because you don’t want to climb a tree?”

Marvel jumps in, “No. We’ll camp here for the night, making sure she can’t escape; and in the morning, one of the girls can go up there and fetch her.”

Even Cato has to admit that Marvel’s plan is sound and the four of them settle down for the night, with the girl from 4 taking the first watch.

I’m so engrossed by the plight of poor little Rue, that I almost miss Peeta peeking out of his hiding place. It is obvious by the look on his face that he is aware of the situation. His eyes lift up to the tree, searching for the little girl. I don’t know if he finds her, but from the middle screen I can see that she definitely finds him. The smile that breaks out through her hopeless expression is heartbreaking. In that moment, she reminds me so much of Prim that it physically hurts. I have to remind myself that the little girl in the tree is not my sister; that Prim is safe at home with my mother. It doesn’t exactly make me feel any better.

“She thinks he’s going to try to save her,” I say to Haymitch.

Haymitch sighs. “And by the look on his face, I think that Peeta’s not going to prove her wrong.”

I turn to him. “No, Peeta’s not stupid. Yeah, he saved her once, but that was only because he had the opportunity to do it. Doing anything but getting out of there right now would be nothing short of suicide.”

“Katniss,” he stops and I can see the wheels in his head turning. “He’s not going to run. Look, he’s going back in there.”

“Why?” I ask and I hate how my voice cracks in the middle of the word. “Why is he doing this?”

“Because he’s a good guy, Sweetheart,” he tells me and there’s something unrecognizable in his tone. “And he has managed to somehow keep that part of himself in that hell hole.”

“He told me that he didn’t want to change who he was for the sake of surviving,” I recalled, my throat burning at the thought of what he said next. “He said he’d be fine if he died as himself.”

“I know that you don’t want to hear this,” Haymitch says. “But that’s a very admirable quality.”

“I don’t want to admire him!” I shout, taking out my frustration with Peeta on Haymitch. “I want him to get out of there unharmed! He told me that he loved me, so why isn’t he trying his hardest to come back to me?”

“I don’t know,” he sighs.

We are quiet for a while, the gloom of the situation making it difficult to talk. There are no pictures tonight as everyone managed to survive the day. The promise of Rue’s death in the morning was apparently enough to avoid the need for the Gamemakers to step in and help ward off the boredom.

At some point, Johanna pops back in and I know by the look on her face that she’s concerned for me. I can’t stand the way that Haymitch and her keep shooting worried looks in my direction.

“I’m going to bed,” I announce, not being able to be in that room with them for one second longer.

I go into the room and climb into the bed. I am far more depressed than anxious about the events that will transpire tomorrow. I know that Peeta will somehow endanger himself in a harebrained scheme to help Rue survive and I’m convinced that it won’t end well for him. 

I don’t expect to fall asleep but I guess my emotional exhaustion wins out and I fall into unconsciousness.

\----------

I wake up with a start; my heart racing and sweat on my forehead. I swallow hard to keep the bile from rising up in my throat. This nightmare had been particularly bad and I knew that it would not be the last time I would see it. I witnessed Peeta die hundreds of times in hundreds of way. Each time he looked at me (when he still had eyes, of course) and asked me why I couldn’t save him. And each time the only thing I could do was offer him a weak apology.

The bed is damp from my perspiration and uncomfortably warm now and I have no desire to be in it for a moment longer than necessary. I quickly make my way to the viewing room, to find Johanna and Haymitch watching the screens silently.

I don’t even bother asking if I missed anything, because I know I would have been awoken if there had been an issue. Instead, I settle into the chair that Johanna vacates and stare at the left screen, wishing that Peeta wasn’t hiding so I could look upon his beautiful face one last time before he sacrificed himself for the girl who was probably going to die soon after.

“He hasn’t slept all night,” Johanna informs me. “Every so often, he pops his head out of there and makes sure that the situation hasn’t changed.”

I don’t even acknowledge that she spoke to me. She must be really concerned about me, because she actually lets that slide. Usually she would’ve ripped me a new one for less than that.

Thankfully, both Haymitch and Johanna get the hint and we sit in silence until the first rays of light begin peeking over the horizon. That’s when Cato stands up and starts poking his sleeping companions with his foot.

“Wake up,” he whispers harshly. “Come on, get up!”

“What’s going on?” Glimmer asks, rubbing her eyes.

“Quiet,” he shushes her. “We don’t want to wake her up, now.”

Yes, I think, keep your voices down. Maybe if the Careers are quiet enough, they won’t alert Peeta to the fact that the attack is going down now.

Cato moves behind the girl from District 4 and pushes her towards the tree. “Climb,” he commands.”

“Why do I have to do it?” She doesn’t seem too thrilled with the prospect of going up after Rue.

“Because I told you so,” Cato says.

“But I don’t want to,” she tells him. “Besides, I still think that climbing up there is a bad idea.”

“Oh, for crying out loud,” Glimmer says in annoyance, making her way to the tree. “I’ll do it, then.”

It is obvious that Glimmer doesn’t have the experience that I do when it comes to trees. She is careful and takes her time, and she manages to get a little over halfway up the tree before the first snap of a branch makes her stop.

“I don’t think I can go any higher,” she calls down, loud enough to make sure that they heard her.

I see that the Careers weren’t the only ones that did, when Rue perks up in her perch. In the light of dawn, I can see her face clearly in the tree. She looks down at her pursuer and panic reads all over her face.

“Don’t stop! You’re nearly at her,” Marvel shouts up to his district partner. He’s exaggerating, of course, as Glimmer has quite a bit more to climb before she can reach Rue.

She looks up to where Rue’s at and her voice wavers, “I don’t know if I can. I think I’m too heavy.”

“You’re fine,” the girl from District 4 says from the base of the tree. “So stop whining and keep going!”

“No, I think I’m gonna come down,” she says.

“If you get down from there without bringing the girl with you, I’m going to kill you,” Cato warns.

There’s no doubt that Cato means every word of his threat and her fear of him overrides her fear of climbing higher. I notice that Peeta’s out of his bush by now and looking up at the tree at Rue. The little girl meets eyes with him and gives him a quick shake of her head.

“Listen to her, Peeta,” I say, not being able to help myself. “There’s nothing that you can do to save her and even she knows it.”

When Peeta’s shoulders slump I am convinced that just maybe she has gotten through to him until he takes out his knife and starts walking towards the Careers that have their backs to him. 

Rue’s eyes widen in fear.

“NO! WAIT!” Rue screams, suddenly. “DON’T MOVE!”

Peeta freezes immediately but shoots a quick glance up to Rue and he sees that her attention was completely focused on Glimmer. It’s not until the camera moves to show the wasp’s nest at the end of the branch near the girl’s head that I realize why Rue sounded so panicked. 

“You don’t think that those are tracker jackers, do you?” I ask, trying to keep calm. “What would be the odds?”

“It’s an arena,” Johanna reminds me. “I can pretty much guarantee that those aren’t regular wasps.”

“It can’t be,” I say, desperately. “They’re notoriously aggressive, they would’ve gotten stung by now if it was the muttations.”

“They were probably subdued by the smoke in the arena,” Haymitch points out as the camera zooms in on the nest where a couple of the creatures are now flying around it. I recognize the large gold body immediately; it’s definitely a tracker jacker nest and my stomach churns at the thought.

Unfortunately, of those in the area of the nest, only Peeta and Rue have noticed it. Glimmer, ignoring Rue’s warnings grabs ahold of the branch where the nest is located and begins to pull herself up. There’s a small snap and the motion seems to stir up more of the insects, bringing them out of the nest.

Rue meets eyes with Peeta again. “RUN!”

Thankfully, he does as she says; because no sooner than he has jumped back into his hiding place, does the branch break completely and down comes the nest, the branch, and Glimmer.

Everything happens so fast that I have some trouble keeping up with what is going on. Glimmer and the branch land unceremoniously atop of the District 4 girl. Marvel and Cato both look as if they’re going to try to help the girls up when the tracker jackers make their presence known.

The majority of the swarm seems rather interested in the two females lying in a heap at the base of the tree, but a small group heads towards Marvel and Cato. The boys notice this and take off running. 

And that’s when the stings come. The screams from the girls are so loud that they even startle Misu on the other side of the lake. She moves closer to the edge and squints her eyes, trying to figure out what is going on. Cato and Marvel run past the bush that Peeta is hiding in, each yelping a couple times as they get stung. The two boys jump into the lake and drop under the water for some time. The wasps fly angrily over where their heads disappeared for a few seconds before they all fly off.

The girls aren’t quite as lucky, however, and soon the two shrieks become one. A cannon fires but it is almost difficult to hear over Glimmer’s gibbering cries. But even those eventually settle down into whimpers before they die out altogether. A second cannon rings out, signaling the end of the beautiful girl from District 1.

Misu stands on the lake edge and helps Cato and Marvel out of the water. The swim and the stings have taken a lot out of them.

“What happened?” Misu asks, as the boys sit on the shore trying to catch their breath. “Where are the girls?”

“Didn’t you hear the cannons?” Cato snarls at her as he touches a quickly swelling sting behind his ear.

“They’re dead?” Misu asks incredulously. “How?”

“Tracker jackers,” Marvel says, letting himself lie back. “How many cannons did you hear?”

“Two,” she tells him.

“That means she’s still alive,” Cato says and the fury is evident on his face.

“Who?”

“The little girl from 11,” Marvel explains, as he closes his eyes.

Misu actually laughs at this, earning her glares from both of the boys. “Wait. Are you telling me that wisp of a thing caused all this?”

“Shut up,” Cato demands and he tries to get up. It appears that his legs won’t work and he has to crawl his way up to the camp. Marvel follows suit, not being able to walk himself. 

Misu watches this with a scowl on her face. “Wait, does this mean that I’m still on guard duty?” No one answers her and she plops down on the ground, her scowl deepening. “Well, that’s just great.”

As that is going on, Peeta climbs out of his bush and races over to where Rue was treed. The tracker jackers have left the area, and Peeta takes a moment to survey the damage. His color grows a little green at the look of the bodies of the two girls.

“Rue?” Peeta calls out, looking up at the tree. “Are you still here?”

“Peeta?” Rue replies and she starts climbing down to him. “Are you all right? Did you get stung?”

“No, I’m fine,” he tells her. “How about you?”

“I didn’t get stung, either,” she says, shaking her head as she effortlessly makes her way down. Her climbing skill obviously surpasses even my own. But she spoke too soon because when she’s four feet above Peeta’s head, a lone tracker jacker flies down from the nearby cluster of leaves and stings Rue’s right calf. The pain of it causes her hands to lose their grip and she falls. Peeta catches her in his arms and sets her down gently on the ground and starts examining her.

“Did one get you?” Peeta asks and Rue nods weakly, big blobs of water falling from her eyes. “Where?”

Rue pulls up her pant leg and shows Peeta the site of the sting. His face hardens in concentration. “I’m going to have to get the stinger out.”

She nods before replying weakly. “I know.”

“I’m sorry if this hurts,” he says, and she closes her eyes tightly in response. He takes that as a sign that she’s ready and pulls the barbed stinger out of Rue’s leg. Some green fluid starts coming out of the sting. Peeta gives Rue’s face a quick glance before he squeezes the area, causing more of the liquid to ooze out. His frown deepens with every pained noise she makes.

“Smart boy,” Haymitch says softly and I look away from the screens long enough to notice the look of pride on his face. 

“Okay, I think that’s the best I can do right now,” Peeta says, and then he scoops her up in his arms and takes off at a run.

“Peeta…” His name comes out as a whimper from the small girl and he pulls her closer to him.

“Shhh…” he says, somehow sounding consoling while at a sprint. “Let’s just get out of here first, okay? 

“Okay,” she says, her voice soft.

We watch as Peeta runs through the woods, his speed rivaling that of his run from the Cornucopia. I find it an impressive show of his strength and stamina and I hear several pings from my computer agreeing with me. 

“Well, _that_ couldn’t have gone any better for him,” Haymitch says, leaning back in his chair. 

“Seriously,” Johanna says in agreement. “He got out of there without even a single sting and the Careers lost two of their own.”

“I can’t believe he’s okay,” I manage to get out. I was so sure that Peeta would die today that my head can’t comprehend that he’s actually out of danger for now. It is only by sheer force of will that I keep myself from bursting into tears. I let out long, shaky breaths as I try to regain my composure.

Johanna examines me for a second before turning to Haymitch and telling him, “You know what the best part of what just happened is?”

“That we might have an hour of peace before Katniss has another emotional crisis?” Haymitch guesses. 

“No, but that’s also a good thing,” she admits. “I was thinking that Finnick just lost his girl tribute, which means that he’ll be free the next time she falls to pieces and we can let him deal with it.”

“Good plan,” Haymitch tells her, leaning back in his chair.

“I thought so,” she says.

“Very funny. Just shut up, both of you,” I say, frowning at them. This causes the two of them to crack up and I know that the teasing is just going to get that much worse once Finnick joins in.

“So now that Finnick’s out, does this mean we get you full time?” Haymitch asks Johanna.

“Like I have anywhere better to go?” Johanna responds. “I’m hungry. Can we order breakfast now?”

“Go ahead,” I tell her, and focus my attention back on Peeta. He is still running like a madman, Rue cradled in his arm making her look even smaller than she is. 

It is not hard to tell when the hallucinations start, as Rue starts murmuring gibberish and twitching in Peeta’s arms. This seems to drive Peeta to go faster as he coos soothingly at the girl.

I bite my lip. “Do you think she’s going to die?”

“I don’t know,” Haymitch says, glancing at me. “But I think it’s doubtful, she only got stung the once.”

“But she’s so tiny,” I point out.

“So were you when you were in the arena,” Johanna reminds me. “But that didn’t stop you from being a tough little thing.”

“Besides, Peeta took out the stinger and drained some of tracker jacker poison out of her body,” Haymitch says. “I think she’s going to have a nasty time with all the visions for a bit, but she’ll survive.”

I am sickened with myself when I realize that I met the news of Rue’s probable survival with mixed feelings. I can’t help but think that it would have been easier on Peeta if she succumbed to the poison and died that way; but I know it’s a horrible thought and Peeta would probably hate me if he knew I could be that way. 

It’s a couple of hours of nonstop running before Peeta stops for the first time. He places Rue down on the ground and checks on the sting in her leg that has swollen up to size of a large plum. He touches it gingerly, checking for Rue’s reaction, but she is too deep in her hallucination to react. Because of that he squeezes the sting again, prompting the appearance of several droplets of the green liquid.

He pulls out the bottle of water and tries to get Rue to drink some; but in her state, it proves to be a waste of time. After putting the bottle back in his pack, he produces a packet of crackers that I hadn’t even been aware that he had. Again, he attempts to give some to Rue with no success. He devours all but three of the crackers, putting the remainder in his backpack.

His pace is slower when he starts up again, but not by that much. I don’t know how he’s able to keep running while also carrying the extra weight of another person in his arms. He makes the bare minimum of stops, every time attempting to get food or water into Rue. A couple of times, he manages to get her to drink some between the end of one hallucination episode and the start of the next one and his bottle is empty by mid-afternoon.

Thankfully, it’s takes him less than an hour after that to find the stream again. He looks as relieved as I feel at the sight of the water. He sets Rue down for a minute as he goes about refilling the bottle of water and purifying it.

As we watch Peeta try and catch some fish, the door to the mentoring station opens and Finnick steps in, looking refreshed and in a pleasant mood.

“So, I’m out,” he says before sighing grandly. He plops down on the couch beside Johanna and rests his head on her shoulder before she shrugs him off. “I’m so depressed, comfort me?”

“We’ve got our hands full dealing with Little Miss Mood Swings over there,” Johanna tells him. “I was kinda hoping that you would step in and be the one who dealt with all of that.”

“Oh, little Squirrel,” Finnick says, looking over at me. “What’s got you so wound up? Your little boyfriend there is safe and if that wasn’t enough, I’m here now. You should be bursting with joy.”

I choose to ignore most of his comments to me. “You know that it’s not true.”

“I know what isn’t true?” Finnick asks me, looking confused.

“You said that Peeta was safe, and that’s a lie. He’s in danger as long as he’s still in the arena,” I tell him, watching the screen as said boy brings his catches over to where Rue is twitching. 

“You do have a point about that,” Finnick concedes, nodding at me. “But he’s in a better position now than he was last night, so maybe you should take that as a victory and celebrate it.”

“I think I’ll save all my celebrations for if Peeta makes it out alive,” I tell him. I don’t understand him; of all people, he should be the one to whom I shouldn’t have to explain what I’m going through.

“You’re so grumpy,” he says, pouting. “I would have thought you’d have been in a better mood after all that loving the boy gave you a few nights ago.”

Johanna and Haymitch chuckle at that as I bury my face in my hands. “Don’t say things like that! Especially when you know they aren’t true.”

“If it’s not even remotely true, then why are you blushing so furiously?” Finnick asks me. “Obviously, something must have happened to get such a reaction out of you; and it must have been something really dirty…”

“Finnick!” I cry as my cheeks burn hotter.

“You know, the only way to make me believe that what I heard you did isn’t true, is to tell me what did happen between the two of you up on that roof.”

“Nothing happened,” I tell him and he snorts incredulously. “Well nothing you would fine interesting, at least. We just kissed.”

“Must have been a hell of a kiss if the memory of it has got you smiling like that,” Johanna says.

“Can we please drop it?”

“Are you going to stop being so petulant?” I hate when he answers my questions with a question.

“I’ll try to be more cheerful as I watch Peeta endure the horrors of the arena,” I say sarcastically.

“Keep up the attitude and I’ll go keep Gloss and Cashmere company,” he warns. But I know it’s an empty threat, as Finnick often complains about the creepy vibe the siblings give off whenever he has to spend time with them.

“No, don’t go,” I say because the truth is that I want him to stay. He has managed to cheer me up, even if it was only a little. 

“Well, I guess I’ll stay,” he says, grinning at me. “But only because you asked so nicely.”

“Hey!” Johanna exclaims suddenly. “We’re down to the final eight!”

I count the survivors quickly in my head. “Yeah, you’re right. They’ll probably start doing the interviews tomorrow, then.”

The three other occupants turn their heads and look in my direction, and they appear to be expecting some sort of reaction from me.

“What?” I ask finally, annoyed with the stares.

“I think we were all waiting for when it finally hits you that you’re going to be the first one they’re going to want to interview for Peeta,” Johanna says.

Oh. I hadn’t thought about that.


	15. The Boy who (Unwittingly) Causes a Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A very annoyed and possessive Katniss resorts to violence.

That night, the four of us watch as Peeta tucked Rue into his sleeping bag before placing her inside a bush. He sits with his back to her, eyes trained on the woods in front of him. It is not long before Rue starts whimpering again and Peeta fetches the girl, sleeping bag and all.

He places her beside him and whispers soft, soothing words until the girl grows still again. My only thought is how wonderful it would be if he could do that to me when I have my nightmares. Perhaps he and I might get the chance to fulfill that once I get him back alive.

The anthem stirs up another fit from the girl, but Peeta has got her settled down by the time that Glimmer’s picture is shown. Next comes the girl from District 4 and we all give our sympathies, no matter how insincere they might have been, to Finnick who waves us off with a joke.

As Peeta cares for the small girl, Misu all but ignores the two other members of her alliance. The shots from inside the tents show that Cato and Marvel appear to be having more violent reactions to the tracker jacker poison than Rue is. It isn’t terribly surprising, considering that both boys got stung more times than her and neither Cato nor Marvel removed the stingers.

Misu dozes off a couple of times before grabbing a sleeping bag from a tent and climbing into it. It isn’t long before she’s fast asleep. The shot is on her unconscious form when suddenly we see a figure dart into view. It is only when she moves past the lighted torches, do I see who the figure is.

“Foxface!” I exclaim.

“Who?” Finnick asks, his eyebrows raised.

“Girl from 5,” Johanna says, shaking her head. “Just accept the nickname and move on. Trust me.”

“Okay,” he responds uncertainly.

We watch as she sneaks past Misu and the tents before she stops in front of the supplies. She starts taking food from the pile, being very careful not to take too much and make her theft obvious. When she is done collecting all that she needs, she sneaks back off from where she came from.

“That girl is clever,” I say. “Not unlike a fox…”

“Give it a rest, Sweetheart,” Haymitch says. “No one is going to agree with you that she looks like a fox.”

“I don’t know,” Finnick says, already fighting a smile. “The girl could resemble a fox if it was dark enough.”

“Oh, so funny,” I get in, sarcastically. “I might have changed my mind about not wanting you to leave.”

He just gives me one of his infectious grins in response and it takes every shred of my willpower not to return it.

Just then there’s a knock on the door, and Effie steps in. I somehow manage to suppress my groan. It is rare to see her during the actual games as the escorts are typically busy. Doing what, I don’t know, but whatever it is, it thankfully keeps them out of the mentoring stations

“Katniss!” She claps her hands when she sees me. “Big, big, big news! You’re going to be interviewed about Peeta tomorrow!”

I try to appear excited about it. “That’s wonderful, but I still can’t believe they would want to talk to me.”

“Of course they do,” Effie says, looking at me. “After all, you are his girlfriend! You are, aren’t you?”

I remember what Johanna said about my reputation and wonder exactly what rumors Effie has heard about Peeta and me. “Of course. It’s just that it’s so very new and there’s so many others that know him better than I do.”

Effie gives me a knowing look and I can’t help but look away from her. “From what I heard, I find that high unlikely. Let‘s just hope that your mother never finds out how well you know him...”

I can hear Johanna and Finnick trying to hold back their laughter at this, and even Haymitch snickers. I just love how the people I am closest to can enjoy my miserable situation so much.

“You’re right, Effie,” I say, knowing that there would be no point in trying to convince her that nothing happened between Peeta and me. 

“The interview is going to happen right before lunch, so your prep team is going to come by tomorrow morning to make you presentable,” she tells me and then looks at her watch. “It’s getting late, so you should probably get some sleep so you can look your best for the cameras tomorrow.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Haymitch says to me. “It looks like it’s going to be a slow night.”

I know that he’s not wrong about that. The Gamemakers will probably not do anything tonight since there were two deaths today. Add in the fact that there’s the entertaining show that Cato and Marvel are putting on as they deal with the tracker jacker poison in their bodies, and I am pretty sure that the tributes have earned a respite from Gamemaker-made stunts.

“Okay,” I say, nodding my head and everyone seems pleased with that. “Good night, all.”

I head into the resting room and I lie down in the bed. I hope that my subconscious gives me the night off, but I am fairly certain that it won’t happen. My thoughts drift to Peeta comforting the hallucinating Rue and I wish that he was lying in bed with me, ready to banish the nightmares away. 

I fall asleep with Peeta on my mind and a smile on my face.

\--------

The next morning I am awoken by my prep team and am immediately sent to the shower to freshen up. After a thorough rinse, they go to work on my appearance. The good sleep I managed to get makes their job easier for once. My prep team spends the time talking about how much they’re enjoying the Games thus far and which have been their favorite moments.

When they’re done, Venia helps me into a gorgeous blue dress. My voice catches in my throat when I realize the color of the dress is the exact shade of blue as Peeta’s eyes. I have never marveled so much at Cinna’s brilliance with fabrics and designs as I do at this moment. 

“You look beautiful,” Flavius says.

“I wasn’t sure when I saw the dress,” Octavia starts, fixing the bust. “But of course, Cinna knew best.”

“That color really suits you,” Venia says, as she helps me into the shoes that match the dress.

“It’s the same color as Peeta’s eyes,” I inform them, running my hands over the soft fabric.

The three of them squeal and give me careful hugs, being mindful not to wrinkle the dress right before I go to my interview. Venia hands me Peeta’s jacket to wear again. I had decided to stop wearing it after the first day because I hadn’t wanted the garment to lose Peeta’s scent. But I understand that the people of Panem would go crazy for such a tangible expression of longing.

As they leave me, they all wish me luck and I feel a pang of affection for them. My prep team might be vapid and ignorant but I don’t doubt that the care for me and truly want the best for me. 

It’s not long after they leave that Effie arrives to collect me. I follow her dutifully down the hall until we get to the room where the interview will take place. I am directed to sit in an oversized chair and I do, waiting for the thing to begin.

Time passes and just as I’m afraid that my annoyance is going to get the best of me, a woman arrives and sits in the seat facing mine. It takes me a few seconds to recognize her as the woman who talked about wanting Peeta as her boyfriend the night of the Opening Ceremony, and that‘s only because her jeweled-encrusted lips are not easy to forget. 

“Sorry, I’m late,” she says, tittering. “I went to the wrong room! How embarrassing, right? But, now I’m here and we can begin.”

The camera begins rolling and she starts smiling so wide that I’m afraid her face is going to split it two. “Hellooooo Panem! Crize Gold here with everyone’s favorite Victor-in-love, Katniss Everdeen! Katniss, thank you so much for being here!”

As if I had been given a choice, but I keep that thought to myself. Instead I say, “Thank you for having me!”

“How happy are you with Peeta making it to the final eight?”

“I’m very pleased,” I tell her. “I’d be even more pleased, of course, if he had already won the Games.”

“I can imagine; you must be worried sick about your boyfriend,” Crize says as sympathetically as she can.

“Very.”

“That’s so sweet!” Suddenly Crize leans in really close to me. “Now am I mistaken, or is that the jacket that Peeta wore for his interview with Caesar?”

I swallow hard and look down at my lap demurely. “It is Peeta’s. He gave it to me because I was cold.”

“You were cold?” 

“Yes,” I tell her. “We went up to the roof that night and it was really windy and he wrapped his jacket around my shoulders to keep me warm.”

“Oh, I’m sure he kept you plenty warm after that,” she says, giggling. “So, all of Panem is dying to know every detail about how you and Peeta said goodbye to each other, knowing that it might be your last moment together.”

“Then I must give Panem my apologies,” I say, looking directly into the camera. “Because what transpired was really private and I would very much like to keep it that way.”

“Oh, boo! But I guess that makes some sense. Besides, from what some people are saying, most of the activities that you two took part in shouldn’t be mentioned while there might be _children_ watching,” Crize says, leaning forward more to elbow me. “Am I right?”

I am mortified by her comment; and what’s worse is that I can’t even hope that my family will miss it because they will replay the interview during the mandatory viewing tonight. Let’s hope I’m that both my mother and Prim know me well enough to not believe a word of this.

“Maybe we should change the subject, then?”

“Nonsense,” Crize says. “There’s still so much you haven’t told us. For example, how big is he? I’ve seen his hands and feet, so I know that Peeta isn’t lacking in that department.”

I am not sure how shocking in me into silence was helping her cause, because even if I wanted to answer her, I no longer could.

We spend the rest of the time with Crize asking me highly inappropriate questions and with me begging for privacy or just stuttering an unintelligible response. I don’t understand why she’s doing this because I feel like this is a failure of an interview. Who wants to see me blush and trip over my tongue for ten minutes? Well, outside of Finnick and Johanna, but I don’t think they count.

Finally, after what seems like forever, she begins to wrap it up. “It looks like we’ve almost run out of time. Katniss, if you could say one thing to your beloved Peeta in the arena, what would it be?”

I bite my lip and think on it. What I really want to say to him is private and Panem doesn’t need to hear it. Instead I say, “I would tell him to remember what I told him that last night we were together.”

“And what was that?”

“It’s a secret,” I say with a wink. 

“You and your secrets!” Crize exclaims and the smile on her face looks as real as the those over-bloated things on her chest. “Well, I guess that’s all we are going to be able to get out of her. Thank you so much for you time.”

“It was my pleasure,” I lie, having found the entire experience completely agonizing. After this disaster, I will look forward to all my interviews with Caesar instead of dreading them.

Crize has a quick send-off, which includes blowing Peeta a good luck kiss, and then it’s done. She smiles at everyone who compliments her before she turns her attention to me. Gone is the smile and the friendly demeanor; she glowers at me and I raise my eyebrow in surprise.

“That was fun,” she says sarcastically. “Couldn’t you drudge up any of your supposed charm for this?”

“Well, I tried but it wasn’t like you were trying to make it easy for me,” I say, annoyed. “Next time I suggest you do your job correctly.”

Crize looks insulted. “I don’t know what he sees in you.”

“If you are talking about _my_ boyfriend,” I say spitefully. “Then I’m glad that you don’t understand.”

“Don’t be so smug. Maybe when he wins, he’ll want to be my boyfriend,” she replies. “I’ve been saving up to have a turn with Finnick Odair but I’m sure I’ll have enough for Peeta when he goes on the market.”

I see red and suddenly I’m a puppet being controlled by the whims of my rage. The next thing I know I am standing over Crize and she’s screaming about a broken nose or something. My hand feels like it’s on fire. Everyone seems to be freaking out. I wonder what happened.

Effie rushes to my side. “Katniss? What happened? Why did you do that? Oh my! Your hand is bleeding!”

I lift my hand to examine it and find a large slice across the last two fingers. “You’re right.”

She moves me back to sit in the chair I was occupying earlier and tells me to sit. I like this chair; it’s comfortable. 

“I’m going to get Haymitch,” Effie says. “Maybe he can figure out what happened with you.”

“Okay,” I tell her as she leaves. After that, I turn my attention to Crize as she is helped out of the room by some Peacekeepers. She appears to be bleeding, too. What a strange coincidence.

As I wait in the room, all by myself, the few missing bits of my memory seem to piece themselves together and by the time that I feel someone kneel in front of me, I remember everything.

Finnick lifts my chin and looks into my eyes. “Haymitch had to stay in the mentoring room, just in case, so I came in his stead. Are you okay?”

I shake my head weakly and show him my hand. “It hurts.”

“It could be broken,” he tells me, but he seems far more concerned with the cut. “We’re going to need the doctors to check out your hand.”

“Okay.”

He sets my hand down gently and looks at my face again. “What the hell happened in here, Katniss?”

“I punched her,” I admit, my voice soft.

“Yeah, I know,” Finnick says. “That’s pretty much all that Effie was able to tell us about the situation. What I should have said was, why did you punch her?”

“She implied that if Peeta won the Hunger Games that she was going to buy him,” I say and the bile rises in my throat at the thought.

“Oh, little Squirrel,” he sighs. “Victors are expensive. I sincerely doubt she makes enough money to afford one.”

“She’s been saving up for _you_ ,” I spit out. “When she said that I-I don’t know; I just lost it.”

Finnick looks as if he’s lost for words and I can’t blame him. There’s nothing that he can say that would make me feel better that wasn’t also an outright lie. I take his hand with my uninjured one and squeeze it.

“Anything interesting to report?” I ask. Because of the interview and the preparation for it, I haven’t had much of a chance to keep up with what’s going on in the Hunger Games today.

He smiles at me. “Peeta’s fine. Spent the morning camouflaging Rue so he could scout up stream for a better location. He’s pretty amazing at it; made her completely undetectable.”

“I’m sorry I missed it,” I say, and wince as I move my right hand.

“Well, you had plenty of excitement of your own,” Finnick says just as a pair of Peacekeepers enter the room.

“Come with us, Miss Everdeen,” the elder of the two says to me.

“May I ask what this is about?” Finnick asks, maneuvering his body so that it’s between them and me.

“We are to escort Miss Everdeen to a doctor,” the elder one says as the younger one continues to keep his silence.

Finnick nods and helps me out of the chair. “That‘s excellent because she needs some medical attention. You don’t mind if I accompany her, do you?”

The Peacekeeper exchange a look. No doubt that Finnick’s presence wasn’t part of their orders. The younger one finally speaks, “No, it shouldn’t be any problems if you want to come with her.”

“Good,” Finnick says and he takes my arm, keeping me close to him. “Shall we go? That cut looks rather nasty.”

The two Peacekeepers nod and they lead Finnick and me to the small medical clinic on the second floor. With the probable broken nose that I gave Crize, it was surprising not to see her there at the clinic. 

Both Peacekeepers and Finnick stay by my side as I’m seen by one of the doctors. After a quick examination, the doctor says, “The good news is that it’s not broken. The bad news is that I don’t like the look of that cut.”

I don’t like the look of it either and I curse Crize and her stupid bejeweled lips. “What does that mean?”

“Don’t worry, we’re just going to patch you up real quick.” He gives me a pat on the arm before calling out, “Nurse?”

Before I can say anything, I feel a prick in my arm and I’m out.

\---------

When I wake up again, I get the immediate feeling that I have been out for hours. The throbbing in my hand is gone, leaving me with a slight dull ache instead. My tongue feels like it has been wrapped in cotton and I struggle to sit up. That’s when I notice that I’m in an unfamiliar room and that I’m not alone.

“I see you finally decided to awaken,” the other occupant of the room says and my body stiffens at the recognition of the voice.

“President Snow,” I say hoarsely. “I am sorry if I have kept you waiting. I certainly didn’t mean to.”

“The nurse used a dosage stronger than usual because of your status,” Snow informs me. “She just made the natural assumption that as a Victor, you would have a higher tolerance than most.”

I understand what he’s getting at. Most Victors have one or two addictions to help them through the day and because of that they would have been unaffected by a normal dose. I am one of the rare ones that haven’t turned to anything; but of course, I’m still young and there’s plenty of dead tributes and nightmare-filled nights ahead of me that might change that.

“Understandably,” I say, biting back my anxiety. “But I assume that isn’t what you wanted to discuss with me.”

“You are right-- it isn’t.” He moves to a chair besides the couch I was laying on and my nausea grows at the overwhelming stench of blood and roses that seem to accompany Snow wherever he goes. “I actually wanted to discuss your behavior after the interview this morning.”

“I’m sorry I hit her,” I say, looking down and trying to breathe through my mouth as to avoid throwing up.

“I doubt that you are,” Snow tells me. “But it’s no matter, she did have it coming after what she said to you.”

I blink, thinking I must have misunderstood what he said. “I don’t understand, are you mad at me or not?”

“Well, while I do prefer for my Victors to behave more civilly than that,” he begins. “I can’t fault you for your behavior, even if it was an overreaction.”

Before I can stop myself, I say, “My apologies, but I don’t believe it was an overreaction.”

“Miss Gold was never going to purchase Mr. Mellark. Even with her savings, he was going to be quite out of her price range. The whole country is quite enamored of him, you know.”

“I know.”

“His actions in the arena so far have made him even more popular. Because of the overwhelming demand for him, Mr. Mellark would have been very expensive, indeed,” Snow tells me and I have to actively remind myself that I can’t punch the President in the face. “But all of this is entirely irrelevant because even if Mr. Mellark is the Victor, he would not be offered up like that.”

“He wouldn’t?” Even though I know that there’s a catch to all this, I breathe a sigh of relief.

“No, but I am not quite ready to tell you why, Miss Everdeen,” Snow tells me and the relief is immediately replaced by apprehension. “You’ll forgive me for wanting it to be a surprise, won’t you?”

“Of course, sir,” I say as genially as I can, all the while hoping that whatever Snow has planned is not worse than Peeta being sold for the pleasures of the wealthy Capitol citizens.

“I am so glad. Now, how are you feeling, Miss Everdeen?” Snow asks me and once again I’m surprised by how effortlessly he can pretend to have human emotions like concern.

“A little woozy, but I’ll be fine.”

“Would you like to be escorted back to your station? Because I can have some Peacekeepers walk you down to the room,” he offers, and he must know how little I would want that.

“No, thank you,” I try to appear as gracious as possible. “I am sure I can make it on my own.”

“Well, If you are sure…” he says, trailing off “You may go now. But I would watch my temper if I were you, Miss Everdeen. I have no desire to clean up your messes every time someone says something you disagree with.”

A nod is my only response and I force my legs not to wobble as I exit the president’s suite. Once out in the hallway, I slowly start making my way back to my mentoring station. I quickly realize that I had overestimated my ability to walk all the way back down there. But, somehow, I manage to push through the wooziness and weak legs and make it back.

The second I step inside, I am met with relief from the three other occupants. My knees buckle and Finnick is by me in a flash, helping me up. With his support, I am able to make it to a couch, where I immediately lie down.

“How upset was Snow?” Haymitch asks.

“He seemed weirdly accepting of the whole thing,” I tell him. “He did tell me to watch my temper, though.”

“Glad to hear that he was more forgiving of you than he was of her,” Johanna says, settling back in her seat.

“Jo!” Finnick exclaims. “I thought we agreed that we weren’t going to mention that to Katniss.”

She shrugs. “You and Haymitch agreed. No one asked my opinion on the subject. Besides, I think she has the right to know what happened.”

“What happened?”

When neither Haymitch nor Finnick speak up, Johanna steps in. “The woman you hit? Word is that Snow wasn’t pleased with how the interview came out and she’s being punished as we speak.”

I cover my mouth with my hands. “What do you mean by ‘punished?’ What is going to happen to her?”

“Smart money’s on…” Johanna pantomimes getting her tongue cut. “Besides, I didn’t imagine that you would be so upset about this. From the sounds of things, she deserved it.” 

I feel like I’ve been punched in the gut; because once again I am directly responsible for the torture and/or death of someone. While I certainly can’t say that I like Crize, I still feel like she didn’t do anything to warrant any of the things that are probably being done to her.

Johanna appears to be completely oblivious to my inner turmoil and says, “Oh and by the way, they showed your interview earlier and you sucked.”


	16. The Boy with a Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peeta and Rue spend some time together.

As Finnick scolds Johanna for being too harsh on me about the interview, I try to push away the guilt of knowing that I was responsible for whatever Crize was enduring. While I certainly disliked the woman who interviewed me earlier, I still didn’t want her to get mutilated. I am trying to figure out a way to stop dwelling on it when something onscreen helps me forget all about it.

“Hey! Since when is Rue up?” I ask as I see the little girl from District 11 walking beside Peeta.

“She finally returned to the land of the living a few hours ago,” Johanna says. “She’s a smart little thing. Apparently, she had noticed a few other tracker jacker nests and had picked some medicinal leaves just in case she got stung.”

“Too bad she didn’t manage to explain all of that to Peeta before the hallucinations took hold,” Haymitch says. “Or she might have shortened the time the poison had worked through her body.”

“Once she got the swelling on the sting to go down, she immediately proceeded to devour everything Peeta offered her,” Johanna told me. “Watching her eat kinda reminded me of you.”

“You’re one to talk,” I shoot back, not wanting to be teased anymore tonight. “Or did you forget about the incident at Ply’s party in which you ate the entire pastry dish before anyone else got to try one?”

Johanna glares at me. “I thought we had decided that we weren’t going to talk about that ever again.”

“Did we?” I ask, putting on my best innocent expression. “I seem to have forgotten all about that in the wake of all your teasing. I wonder what else I’ve forgotten that I’m not supposed to bring up.”

“Oh, shut up,” she mumbles sinking into her chair.

I shoot her a quick smug look that she doesn’t even notice, before I turn my attention to the screens again. I immediately can tell that Cato and Marvel are still in the throes of hallucinations and that Misu’s completely on edge.

“Misu’s not happy, huh?” I ask Haymitch.

“Not in the slightest,” he tells me. “At least she’s calmed down some. Earlier she threw a fit and started tossing supplies around the camp and breaking anything and everything she got her hands on.”

“That was entertaining,” Finnick says, chuckling. “Especially since she was ranting about you the entire time.”

“What did she say about me?”

“She called you every name in the book and then some, for one,” Johanna says. “She also listed, in great detail, what she thought were all your physical flaws; which, by the way, I can’t believe it took for Misu to point it out for me to notice before just how lopsided your ears are.”

“They are not!” I exclaim, indigently while I check them. The three of them laugh heartily. “So, not funny. What else did she say?”

“She yelled about how stupid Gale had been to fall in love with you, since you went ahead and got him killed for it,” Haymitch tells me, the humor giving way to seriousness. “And that you didn’t deserve him or Peeta or anyone else, really.”

“And of course there was a lot of ‘I hate Katniss,’” Finnick says. “I think we got up to fifty-seven times before we got bored and stopped counting.”

“Man, she really hates you,” Johanna tells me and I narrow my eyes at her. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m just calling it like I see it. And I can’t even blame her for it since you did steal away the boy she was in love with.”

“I didn’t steal Gale away,” I argue. “All he was to me was a great friend and hunting partner. I’m not to blame for him not being interested in her. It doesn‘t matter; let‘s just drop this.”

“Okay,” Johanna says, neutrally. After that we are all quiet for a few moments.

“So, where are Peeta and Rue going, anyway?” I ask, needing to break the silence.

“Peeta found a cave a little ways up the stream,” Haymitch tells me. “He thought it might be safer for them there.”

“Oh,” I give Haymitch a once-over. “So, I’m all rested up after my drug-induced nap; you can go get some sleep.”

“I think I will, then,” he says as he gets up. “You should probably get some rest, too, Finnick; you haven’t slept in days.”

Johanna turns to me with a devious smile. “You know what? I heard that lack of sleep gives you wrinkles.”

“All right, all right,” he says. “I’ll go to bed if you two ladies are sure that you can handle my absence.”

“It’ll be a struggle,” Johanna says, dryly. “But I’m sure we’ll be able to comfort each other.”

Finnick and Haymitch say their good nights and Johanna and I are left alone with each other. 

“If you’re wondering where Peeta’s jacket is, it’s over there,” Johanna says, pointing it out to me. “Finnick brought it back with him when the Peacekeepers brought you to regain consciousness in Snow’s suite.”

“Truth be told, I had forgotten all about it. I’m glad that he took care of it for me,” I say. “I need to remember to thank him tomorrow.”

“Are you telling me that Peeta’s jacket wasn’t at the top of your concerns after meeting with President Snow?” Johanna asks in a mocking tone. “What a terrible girlfriend you are.”

“I’m probably going to get kicked out of his fan club, now,” I say.

“I wouldn‘t doubt it. But before you get upset, don’t forget that you can always join Finnick’s,” she reminds me.

“That’s true,” I say. “Thank you, Johanna. You always manage to see the bright side to every situation.”

“Miss Positive-Thinking, that’s me,” she says, but then she frowns. “Seeing Snow always sucks, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

There’s nothing left to say, so we sit in silence watching as Peeta and Rue finally make it to their destination. In the dark, the entrance to the cave is difficult to see; but Peeta finds it without problems and leads Rue to it.

When they’re inside, Peeta starts pulling out the sleeping bag from his backpack. Rue sits next to him with a pensive look on her face. 

“Peeta?” 

He looks at the little girl who called his name. “Yes, Rue?”

She looks unsure of herself. “I want to you to know how grateful I am that you saved me.”

Peeta smiles. “You already thanked me, remember? And I still think that I didn’t do anything.”

“You did!” Rue exclaims. “And I wasn’t even talking about the time with the tracker jackers; I was referring to when you killed the girl from District 2 at the Cornucopia.”

“To be honest, I didn’t kill her,” he tells her. “I have a pretty good idea of who did, but it wasn’t me.”

Rue nods her head at his revelation. “Okay. But what I don’t understand is why you’ve risked your life-- twice-- to help me.”

“Well, the truth of the matter is that you remind me of a very special little girl back in District 12,” he tells her. 

“Really?” Rue asks. “Is she your sister?”

“No, I‘m not related to her,” he says, shaking his head. “Actually, I don’t have any sisters. I have two older brothers, though. ”

“I have five brothers and sisters,” she tells him, a light smile on her lips. “And all of them younger than me.”

Peeta breathes out. “Five siblings? So I shouldn’t bother asking if you have any privacy at home, then?”

She laughs. “No, no privacy.”

“Yeah, me either,” he says. “My brothers tend to drive me crazy, but weirdly enough, I kinda miss them.”

“I miss my baby sister climbing into bed with me,” Rue says, and she looks like she’s trying not to cry. “I want to go home.”

“I know you do,” he says. “So why don’t you climb into the sleeping bag and sleep. Maybe you’ll go there in your dreams.”

Rue looks at the sleeping bag unsurely. “There’s only one sleeping bag. Where are you going to sleep?”

“I’ll just sit up over there by the opening,” Peeta says to her, pointing at a spot in the cave. 

“Won’t you be cold?” 

“I’ll be fine,” he assures her. “Just climb in.”

She does and snuggles in until only her face is visible. She watches as he takes his place at the wall. “Peeta?”

“Yeah?” 

“The girl that I remind of you of…” she starts before pausing for a second. “Is she somebody else’s sister?”

He laughs and I realize how much I have missed that sound. “Clever, aren’t you? Yeah, the girl you remind me of is Katniss’ sister.”

“Tell me about her?”

“Who?” Peeta asks. “Katniss or her sister?”

“Either or both.”

“Her name is Primrose, but everyone knows her by her nickname, Prim,” he says and my heart swells at him talking about my sister with so much affection. “Looking at her, you’d never even know that she was related to Katniss as they don’t look a thing like each other.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Peeta says, looking off into the distance. “She’s such a darling that you can’t help but adore her. She’s the only person I’ve ever seen who could make Katniss smile so easily.”

“Not even you?” Rue asks in a playful tone, but her voice sounds a little deeper and I can tell she’s fighting sleep to hear the rest of Peeta’s description.

“Me? I wish I could make Katniss as happy as her sister does,” Peeta says, giving her a sheepish smile. “Prim is her whole world which is why I was so terrified that Prim’s name would be picked at the Reaping. I was so focused on hoping that she would be spared that I guess I forgot to hope for my own safety.”

The computer starts pinging like mad.

The cave is silent for a few minutes before Peeta says, “My life for hers wasn’t a bad trade, in my eyes. You know what I mean, Rue?”

There is no answer from the sleeping bag and Peeta calls her name again. When he’s only met with silence, he must realize that Rue has fallen asleep. He settles back against the rock wall again and smiles softly before saying, “Good night, Rue, and may you dream of home.”

I furiously blink back the tears that are threatening to spill from my eyes when I hear Johanna sniffle from beside me. I turn to her in surprise.

“Are you crying?” I ask, shocked beyond belief.

“No,” she says, but the quiver in her voice giving her away. “I don’t cry.”

“Don‘t lie,” I say as I watch her furiously wipe at her cheeks. “I can see that you’re crying. Who knew that Johanna Mason was such a softie?”

“You breathe one word about this to anyone and I will feed you my axe,” Johanna threatens. “Okay?”

I laugh and she eyes me murderously. “I won’t tell anyone. But I think this side of you is a little bit sweet.”

In response to that, she makes the recommendation that I should do something obscene to myself. 

“I’m sorry, I’ll stop,” I tell her and she seems to settle down. 

She was obviously still upset with me, though, because every time I tried to strike up a conversation with her after that, she would ignore it. In the silence of the night, I learned how difficult it is to spend time with a moody Johanna Mason.

Therefore, when the sun begins to rise over the arena and Johanna decides to make Finnick trade places with her, I am not disappointed. However, I can’t say the same about when Finnick doesn’t emerge from the resting room. Instead, a little while later, Johanna comes back in, huffing. 

“He won’t wake up,” she explains to me as she crosses the room. “I’m going to try Haymitch.”

“Good luck with that one,” I tell her. “I usually have to dump a bucket of cold water on his head. But that’s usually because he’s drunk, so you might have an easier go at it. Do watch out for the knife, though.”

Johanna stops at the door leading into the resting room that Haymitch’s in and sighs. “I’m wasting my time, aren’t I? I should sit back down and wait for them to wake up on their own.”

“That would be my suggestion,” I say.

She groans but she sits near me and we watch the screens in silence. While viewing the shot focused on the Careers, I notice a distinct lack of thrashing coming from Marvel and Cato. 

“The boys from 1 and 2 have worked the poison through their body, I think,” I tell Johanna. “They’ll probably wake up soon.”

“Cato’s going to be a joy to be around,” she says, sarcastically, andd I’m just happy that she’s not ignoring me anymore. “I certainly wouldn’t want to be in Misu’s position right about now.”

“Especially with the camp in its state,” I say, referring to the fact that after Misu’s little scene, she neglected to clean up the mess she left behind.

“Maybe you’ll get lucky and Cato will kill her for it.”

“I _doubt_ I’m that lucky,” I say.

It’s not much later that Cato finally emerges from his tent. His face twists into a mask of rage the second he sees the camp.

“WHAT HAPPENED HERE?” Cato screams and it is enough to pull Marvel out of his tent and Misu from the sleeping bag. When Cato’s eyes land on her, he says, “YOU! Did you do this?”

Misu looks at him coolly. “Of course I didn’t do this. You did.”

“No, I didn’t,” Cato says, but I can hear how unsure he sounds.

“Yeah, you did,” she tells him, her voice not betraying an ounce of untruth. “It was during one of those weird little fits you threw.”

“That doesn’t explain why you didn’t clean it up,” Marvel says and I wonder if he even believes Misu.

“I was busy making sure that the two of you didn’t try and drown yourselves in the lake,” she retorts.

“Let’s just clean it up and be done with it,” Cato says, angrily. 

The three of them go to work, with some working harder than others, and soon enough the camp’s mess has been dealt with. Once it’s all done, they all grab some food from the pile and have breakfast.

“I need to kill something,” Cato says, as he finishes his apple. “How long exactly was I out for?”

Misu knits her brow in concentration. “Almost two full days, I think. Time moves so slowly here. Felt like more than that.”

“Two days?” Cato repeats. He angrily whirls on Marvel. “We just lost two whole days because of that!”

“Why are you yelling at me about it?” Marvel asks. “I wasn’t responsible for that, you know.”

“It was your partner who dropped the nest on us,” Cato says, accusingly. 

“Yeah, and she died because of it,” Marvel reminds him. “I still don’t understand what that has to do with me.”

“We need to be more careful,” Cato says as he turns back to look at Misu. Marvel rolls his eyes behind Cato’s back. “Has anyone died since…?”

“No, the girls were the last to go,” Misu tells him. “Even the little 11 girl managed to survive, apparently.”

“She’s not going to survive for long,” Cato promises. “So, who’s going to stay behind and watch the camp?”

Marvel and Misu exchange glances before they both start speaking at once. It is hard to understand what either of them are saying and Cato finally lifts up his right hand and tells them both to shut up.

The boy listens but the girl just takes the opportunity to be heard. “I have been stuck in this boring little camp for two days straight taking care of you two idiots. There is no way I am staying behind again.”

“Cato, I’m far more useful and deadly than she is,” Marvel butts in. “Who would you rather have watching your back-- me or her?”

Misu turns on the seduction, grabbing Cato‘s hand and bringing it to her lips. “Cato, please don’t make me stay here alone another day. I can’t handle it.”

Marvel, probably sensing he might actually lose this argument, says, “I don’t even know why we need someone to stay behind. No one’s going to come into the Career’s camp. Let’s light a fire, so people will know to stay away.”

Cato appears to be considering this. “You think that’ll work?”

“If anyone dared to come and attack us, don’t you think that they would’ve done it already?” Marvel reasons. “Think of who is left; do you really think any of them have it in them to try?”

“You’re right,” Cato says, nodding in agreement. “Let’s get to work on that fire, so I can go hunting.”

As the three of them go about setting a warning fire, I see that Rue is getting up from the sleeping bag. She walks softly to where Peeta slumped against the wall. He had fallen asleep sometime in the middle of the night and was still unconscious.

She touches his shoulder lightly but that is more than enough to make him jump to alertness. He looks around for a second, lost, before he finds Rue standing beside him and he relaxes.

“Guess I fell asleep,” he says, looking sheepish. “I’m afraid that I’m not a very good guard.”

“You were tired and I can’t blame you for that,” Rue says, sweetly. Her stomach rumbles and she lowers her head in embarrassment.

“I take it that you’re hungry,” Peeta says. 

“A little bit,” she admits.

“I’ll go fishing right now, then,” he says, standing and stretching his tight limbs. He goes and packs up the sleeping bag into his backpack. “How did you sleep?”

“It was nice,” she says. “Thank you.”

Rue grabs her small pack and follows Peeta out of the cave. When they reach the stream, he frowns deeply.

She notices this. “What’s wrong?”

“There aren’t any fish here,” he says, examining the stream. “I know that there were some yesterday.”

“Maybe they’re all downstream?” Rue offers.

“Maybe,” Peeta says, but he seems skeptical. Even so, the two of them begin following the stream down. 

“Okay, catch me up,” Haymitch says when he appears a few minutes later. He slumps down on one of the chairs, looking more tired now than he was when he went to bed last night.

“Katniss can fill you in while I go take a nap,” Johanna says, jumping up and heading into the now-unoccupied resting room.

I tell Haymitch about Misu and the Careers going in search of victims and leaving the camp guarded by a campfire. I also tell him about how the stream appears to have been picked clean of fish.

“That’s not good,” Haymitch says, frowning at the news. “It was a steady food source for Peeta.”

By the time Finnick finally graces us with his presence, Rue and Peeta have followed the stream for quite a bit of distance. 

“What are they doing?” Finnick asks, picking at some of the fruit left on my plate from breakfast.

“Looking for fish,” I tell him, swatting his hand away. “We’re thinking that the Gamemakers removed them.”

“Thank goodness,” Finnick says and I glare at him. “What? Your boyfriend has many talents, but fishing is not one of them. If I had to see him ‘fish’ one more time, I was going to lose it.”

Finally Peeta stops. “I think we are safe in saying that there are no more fish in this stream.”

“I think you’re right,” Rue says. “But that’s okay. I really don’t like fish that much, anyway.”

“That’s probably because I’m not a very good cook,” Peeta says. “I had a couple of fish dishes in the Capitol that were really delicious.”

“I guess,” she says. “But, look! We can have berries!”

She pulls Peeta away from the stream and leads him to a large bush with purplish-blue berries. She picks a few of them off and pops them into her mouth, making a small noise of contentment. Peeta smiles at that and pulls some of for himself, stuffing them into his mouth.

“These are good,” he says with his mouth full.

“Yeah,” Rue agrees. “Better than fish, right?”

“A little bit,” Peeta admits and Finnick scoffs at that. 

“I wish we could just have a pile of food just sitting there like the Careers do,” Rue says, wistfully. “It would be nice not to have to worry about food.”

Peeta narrows his eyes. “It doesn’t really seem fair to me that the Careers have that kind of advantage.”

She shrugs. “Me either. But that’s how it is every year.”

He shakes his head. “Not every year. I remember the year that Katniss won, there was a landslide that destroyed all of the supplies. The Careers were completely ill-equipped to deal with it and their performance suffered because of it.”

“Well, it’s too bad that the huge fire didn’t come anywhere close to their camp,” Rue says. 

“It is too bad,” he agrees. “But maybe we can rectify that little oversight.”

“I don’t understand.”

Peeta pops a few more berries in his mouth and chews them thoughtfully. “Perhaps the Career Pack has had it a little too easy so far.”

Rue laughs. “Yes, they seemed to have gotten off easy what with the fire and the tracker jackers.”

“What I propose we do is go to their camp and level the playing field a little bit,” he tells her.

“But what about the Careers? If they catch us, they’ll kill us!”

“There’s only three of them left now if they still have Misu hanging around,” Peeta says. “I think we can do it but only if you’re up for it.”

“Then let’s do it,” she says, excitedly.

Peeta grins. “Okay, then tell me everything that you know about their camp.”


	17. The Boy who Evens the Odds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rue and Peeta find a way to level the playing field

At his request, Rue tells Peeta everything that she can remember about the Careers’ camp at the edge of the large lake. It seems that Rue had spent a good amount of time hiding in the trees across the lake and she managed to collect quite a bit of information. Peeta listens intently and only speaks if he has a question or needs something described in more detail. 

When she is done, he nods. “I think we should start making our way back to the lake now, so we don’t have to travel at night.”

“All right,” she says, and the two of them fill their respective packs with fruits and top off their water bottles before setting off towards the lake.

Expecting this to be less than entertaining, I decide to take a quick nap in the middle of the day. I know that I will be too nervous for Peeta’s safety to even attempt sleep tonight and that I should try and take full advantage of the fact that my anxiety hasn’t kicked in yet.

I somehow manage to get a full four hours of sleep before I awaken. It’s the most refreshed I have felt since before the reaping and I’m convinced that the feeling isn’t going to last very long. 

As I step out of the resting room, I expect there to be three other occupants in the room. I was off by one, as apparently there was a new arrival while I slept. She is the only one who notices my appearance and she smiles at me before turning her attention back to what is happening on the screen.

“Hello, Mags,” I say, trying to make my presence known to the rest without demanding some recognition. The others don’t even bother to turn away from the action onscreen. “What’s going on?”

“We were trying to decide who was going to go in and wake you,” Johanna says. “Misu and the boys have found the boy from District 10.”

As I settle into an unoccupied chair, I search my memory. “He’s the one with the crippled foot, right?” 

“Yes,” Finnick says. “Misu, Cato, and Marvel have been fighting over who gets to do the actual killing for over half an hour now.”

“Misu dropped out of the argument fairly early,” Haymitch tells me. “She says she didn’t care who killed who as long as she got Peeta.”

“Of course she did,” I say. “She has a one-track mind when it comes to Peeta, doesn’t she?”

Mags mumbles something and I’m not able to decipher exactly what she says, so I look to Finnick for a translation.

“She says that Misu is too pretty a girl to be so ugly on the inside,” he tells me. “And I think you’re right, Mags.”

“I don’t think she’s pretty at all,” I say. Unfortunately my opinion is met with amused glances exchanged between the other people in the room. “Okay, fine. She’s pretty, but not as much as she thinks she is.”

No one has anything to say about that and we all sit in silence while we watch Cato and Marvel continuing to argue about the right to get the kill. Misu looks so bored that I’m thinking that she might just snap and kill the boy herself.

“Enough already,” she says, hissing at the bickering boys. “Why don’t you both kill him?”

“And what, share him on our kill tally?” Marvel asks and both of the male tributes laugh at this. 

“Well, if one of you doesn’t do it soon, he might get up and leave and we’ll have to find him again,” she whispers, bitterly.

“Have you seen his foot?” Cato reminds Misu. “It’s a wonder that he’s even managed to survive for this long.”

“But you know, it might be fun to see him try to run away,” Marvel says with a malicious grin.

Cato immediately returns it. “I think you might be right. We’ll just see who gets the kill then.”

Marvel and Cato immediately start making as much noise as possible and the boy from District 10 stands up and looks around, terrified. Once he’s figured out where the sound is coming from, he tries to run in the opposite direction. His foot is a terrible hindrance and I find myself echoing Cato’s earlier comment about it being surprising how long he’s lasted with the disability.

Not surprising, the boy hasn’t gotten far when Cato and Marvel start off after him. Cato is a little quicker than Marvel is; however once Marvel is close enough to the boy, he throws a spear that skewers the boy from 10. The crippled boy falls and Cato stomps angrily when he sees that.

“You cheated!” Cato accuses.

“I didn’t cheat. I’m sorry that you forgot that I was good at throwing spears,” Marvel says, as he gets to the dying boy. He places his foot on the boy’s lower back to give him enough leverage to pull out the spear before thrusting it into the boy again. “And that’s three for me.”

Cato sneers. “I’ve got four.”

“No, you don’t,” Marvel challenges. “Who?”

“The boy from District 5, the girl from 10, and both from 8,” Cato says, counting them off in his fingers.

“The girl from 8 doesn’t count as yours,” Marvel says and the cannon goes off signaling the death of the boy from 10. He bends down and starts wiping the blood off his spearhead with the dead boy’s shirt. “Misu’s the one who got the deathblow on her; that’s her kill. That means you and me are tied.”

Cato scowls but Misu smiles at that. “That means that I’ve got three myself. And I’m the only one who’s managed to kill a Career so far.”

Mags mumbles something about Misu being a little too smug and that if she’s not careful, it’s going to get her into trouble.

Cato looks less than happy with Misu’s comment but Marvel actually smirks. “If you really think about it, Glimmer’s in the lead with four kills; and half of them are Careers.”

“She got herself killed,” Misu protests. “That shouldn’t count!”

“But it does count,” Cato says, and he looks a little less bothered than he did when he thought that Misu might have been in the lead. “Are you done cleaning your spear? I want to get back to the camp before it’s too late.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he says, standing up. “Let’s go.”

The three of them start heading back to their camp and I turn my attention to Rue and Peeta. They have made it to a thick patch of woods across the lake from the Career camp. Peeta stands at the base of the large tree that Rue has apparently climbed. I see her moving around the top of the tree, surveying the land around them. After a bit, she climbs back down carefully. 

“Did you see if anything has been changed?” Peeta asks as he helps her down the last few feet. 

She shakes her head and her feet touch the ground. “No, except for that I don’t think that there’s anyone in the camp right now. There wasn’t any movement, not even when the cannon went off a little while ago.”

“That’s good,” Peeta says nodding. “That means that they are leaving the camp unattended.”

Rue is quiet for a moment. “Who do you think that cannon was for?”

Peeta sighs. “I don’t know, but I’m willing to bet that it wasn’t any from the Career Pack.”

“And we know that it wasn’t either of us,” Rue points out.

“Exactly,” he says, giving her a small smile. “That just leaves us with the girl from 5, the boy from 10, and your District partner.”

Her face falls. “I hope it wasn’t Thresh who died.”

Peeta kneels in front of her and gives her a hug. “Me too. Were the two of you close back in 11?”

She shakes her head. “I hadn’t even seen him before we both got reaped. I am pretty sure that he lived in a completely different section than I did. But he wasn’t mean to me on the train and I can tell that he’s a good person. I think that you and Thresh would have gotten along well in another time and place.”

“No sense in thinking on this any longer.” Peeta says as he looks up at the night sky. “We’ll know soon enough when the anthem starts.”

She nods and sinks down to the ground in front of him. “I’m glad you’re with me, Peeta.”

He looks surprised at that and he gives her shoulders a quick squeeze. “I’m glad that you’re with me, Rue.”

A few minutes later when the anthem ends and the picture of the boy from District 10 is projected in the sky, Rue bursts into tears. 

Peeta immediately looks at her in concern. “Are you okay?”

“Yes. I just feel so terrible that I was happy that it wasn’t Thresh,” she sobs. “And I shouldn’t have felt like that. He was a person, too, and he had a family and friends who love and miss him and I didn’t care enough about him to wish for his safety. I am a terrible person.”

“Shhhh… you can’t think like that,” he says and he wraps his arms around her. “You’re not a terrible person, Rue. Look at you, you’re crying at his loss.”

“I guess I am,” she says, sniffling. “I don’t like being in here; I don’t like what it’s doing to me.”

“I know what you mean.”

“I wish you didn’t,” Rue says before she yawns. She takes that as an opening to change the subject. “I’m tired.”

“I’m not surprised,” he says as he starts pulling things out from his pack. “It was a long day of walking.”

“You should take it tonight,” she says when he tries to give her the sleeping bag. “You let me have it last night. Besides, I don’t want to carry it up with me while I’m climbing the tree.”

“Fine,” he says, but then he starts pulling off his jacket. He hands it to her. “Then take this. The nights seem to be getting colder and colder and you’re going to freeze if you don’t put something else on.”

“But what about you?” Rue asks before hesitantly taking the offered article of clothing. She frowns critically at the lightweight shirt that he‘s wearing. “I don’t want you to be cold.”

“Don’t worry about me. I’m sure I’ll be fine as soon as I get into the sleeping bag,” he tells her. 

“Okay,” she says and Peeta helps her slip it on. It is so big on her that it would look ridiculous if she wasn’t so adorable. 

Johanna chuckles gleefully. “Uh-oh, Squirrel, your boyfriend just gave his jacket to another girl.” 

“You’re right, Jo!” Finnick jumps in. “It seems like our little Peeta is a bit of a heartbreaker.”

I roll my eyes at the two of them which makes them laugh louder. “Shut up. He is just trying to make sure that she didn’t get cold up in the tree. I think it’s cute that he’s taking care of her like that.”

Haymitch hides a smirk. “Maybe you should send him something to remind him that you’re pining for him on the outside.”

“Don’t you start,” I tell him. “I get enough teasing from these two, I don’t need you jumping in and giving them ideas.”

Mags gives me a toothless smile and says something about how they only do it because they love me so much.

“I know,” I say petulantly. “But that doesn’t mean that I don’t want them to stop doing it.”

She turns to the others and mumbles off something to the three of them that I don’t manage to comprehend but her scolding tone makes it easy to understand what she was telling them. 

“Mags, come on, I don’t think-” Finnick starts before he is cut off by a glare from his former mentor. He sighs and lowers head like a child being lectured by his parent. “I’m sorry for teasing you, Katniss.”

“It’s okay,” I say as I try to keep my face neutral. I don’t think it would end well for me if I’m caught enjoying Finnick being put in his place. 

Johanna mutters a quick apology that I barely catch but Haymitch keeps quiet. When Mags trains her eyes on him, he shrugs.

“You may be able to scare the young ones,” Haymitch says. “But it’s been a long time since you’ve been able to intimidate me.”

She keeps looking at him as he tries to ignore her gaze. It doesn’t work and soon he is visibly squirming.

“Okay, okay… Sorry, Sweetheart,” he says, not even turning towards me. “Are you happy now, Mags?”

By the look on her face, it is obvious that she is pleased with the situation. She stands up and gives us all a kiss on the top of the head, mumbling about how we all need to take better care of ourselves. We all promise that we will and she nods before leaving the mentoring station.

The rest of us are quiet as we watch Peeta and Rue settle in for the night. Once they’re all secured in their respective hiding places, I turn my attention to my other tribute. It doesn’t take her and her two companions much longer to finally reach their camp, finding it undisturbed.

Once there, Cato starts trying to divvy up night guard duty and Marvel jumps in to dissuade him.

“Cato, no,” Marvel says. “Look, we’re all a little tired right now and we all need our rest if we’re going to go hunting again tomorrow. Besides, neither of us are terribly heavy sleepers so we’d hear trouble coming from a mile away.”

Cato still looks unconvinced, but agrees to the lack of a guard when he is hit by a long yawn. “Let’s go to sleep then.”

Marvel goes into one tent alone and Misu and Cato enter the second one. The screen focuses on the tent with the multiple occupants. The boy starts climbing into his sleeping bag when Misu tries to climb in beside him.

“So, I was thinking that maybe you would want to work off some of that earlier frustration from not getting the kill,” she purrs as she starts pulling up on the hem of his shirt.

Cato pushes her roughly away from him. “What do you think you’re doing?”

For a millisecond her anger is obvious by her expression before she forces a smile on her face. “Well, I thought that perhaps you and I could enjoy ourselves a little before going to sleep. We could celebrate the fact that we’ve only got four more weaklings to go.”

He is in no mood for her tonight, however. “If you can’t behave, you can sleep outside. I need every minute of sleep I can get if I want to make sure that Marvel doesn’t take another kill from me.”

She pouts at him but crawls into an empty sleeping bag. “I just thought the release might help you sleep better.”

He scoffs. “Is sex all you think about?” Cato asks her, but she doesn’t answer him. “Fine then, how about this? I promise to give you one good tumble before I kill you. How does that sound?”

“Just perfect,” she says, and her voice drips with a threat that I’m surprise that Cato doesn’t hear.

After all my tributes are (as far as I can tell) asleep, I send Haymitch to bed. Johanna tells us that she’s still tired in spite of her earlier nap and she disappears into the other resting room.

We are quiet for a while as the screen begins to show some recaps of the initial bloodbath. As they do on most uneventful nights, they are going through all the deaths in order to fill the entertainment gap left by the sleeping tributes. It isn’t until we get to his own female tribute’s demise that Finnick breaks the silence.

“You must be relieved that Snow canceled the bidding for your first time, huh?” Finnick says. I can’t believe it’s taken him this long to talk about this. Then I realize that it was probably because I hadn’t actually told Finnick the specifics of my first talk with President Snow.

“A bit, but I can’t help but think that he’s planning something that is going to make me wish that he hadn’t,” I say,

“You can pretty much bet on that being the case,” Finnick says and once again, I have to appreciate the lack of sugarcoating. “You cost him a lot of money when you made it sound like you had lost your virginity to Peeta.”

“I didn’t do anything,” I argue even though I know the futility of it. “Taygen Torrklin misunderstood what I meant.”

“I know,” Finnick says. “But I also know, as you should, that Snow is going to set the blame squarely on your shoulders.”

“It’s no fair,” I whine.

“It’s not,” he agrees and then he sighs in the way he always does right before he’s going to tell me something I’m not going to like. “Maybe it would be better for Peeta if he didn’t survive.”

“What?”

“It’s terrible of me to say, Katniss, and believe me, I don’t like it,” he tells me with sadness in his eyes. “But I need you to hear it. If Peeta becomes a Victor, his life will never be a happy one.”

“That’s not true!” 

“You know that it is. He’s handsome, charming, and has the entire Capitol under his spell. His protectiveness of Rue has only made him that much more desirable,” Finnick tells me. “How long do you think it will be after Peeta’s win before Snow sells him to the highest bidder?”

I shake my head furiously at that. “No. Snow said that he wasn’t going to do that to Peeta.”

“Did he?” Finnick looks surprised and perhaps a little jealous. “Did he say why he would spare him?”

“No,” I tell him. “He said he wasn’t quite ready for me to know why. But see? He’s going to be safe.”

“You don’t even believe that for a second,” he says and I turn away from him so he won’t know how right he is. “Listen to me, little Squirrel, I know that you love him and that you don’t want him to die; but you have to ask yourself if it’s worth putting him through everything Snow will throw at him”

“I can’t let him die!”

“You’re being selfish.”

“You did the same with Annie!”

He stiffens up at that. “I did and I admit that I was completely selfish when I saved her. No matter what I go through , it’s worth it just so I can be with her. But sometimes, when we’re alone… she tells me that she wishes I had just let her die.”

“Peeta and I are different from you two,” I reason, but my heart clenches at the thought of ever hearing Peeta say those words to me.

“You’re right,” he says in a defeated tone. “I just wanted you to think about what it would mean for Peeta if you do save him.”

“I know what it would mean,” I tell him. “It would mean that I didn’t lose him, and that’s the only thought I need to know that I have to make sure that he survives the Games.”

Finnick doesn’t respond to that and I lose myself in my thoughts in the heavy silence that envelops us. I don’t care what he thinks; I’m not being selfish by wanting to save Peeta. He’s a good person and Panem already has a shortage of those, so I’m doing everyone some good by making sure he stays alive. However, every so often Finnick’s words infect my brain. I try to push them away quickly enough that they don’t damage my resolve.

I am so consumed by my thoughts that, before I know it, the sun is peeking over the horizon in the arena. Rue wakes first and makes her way down the tree and gently rouses Peeta from his hiding place. When he awakens, he sends her back up the tree to keep an eye on the camp.

Not much later, Marvel climbs out of his tent and calls into the other tent, waking the other two. The three of them have a small breakfast before they decide which direction they’re going to go in search of another tribute. I notice none of them seem particularly eager to go after Thresh in the grain field; unsurprisingly, they decide to go after Rue and after setting their guard fire, they head off in the direction of the thickest, highest trees in the arena.

Rue climbs down from her perch as Peeta leaves the bush he slept in. “Any idea where they’re going?” Rue asks Peeta as she hands him back his jacket.

“I couldn’t hear a word they were saying,” he tells her. “But I have a feeling that they’re not planning on being back for a few hours.”

“Let’s go then,” Rue says and the two of them carefully start making their way around the lake towards the camp.

When they get there, they head to the supply pile immediately. Peeta eyes the mound carefully before he pulls a very large backpack out of the heap and starts filling it with food.

“What are you doing?” Rue says in a whisper.

“No sense in letting it all go to waste,” he says, his voice also low. “Do me a favor and check the tents for an extra sleeping bag. That way we won’t have to keep sharing the only one that we’ve got.”

She peeks into one of the tents and retrieves a bag, bringing it back to Peeta who stuffs it into the newly acquired pack. As the two of them pick through the pile deciding what else totake, Finnick finally breaks the silence.

“I’ll go wake Haymitch,” he says, his voice a little hoarse from hours of disuse. “I’m sure that he won’t want to miss this.”

“Good luck and be careful of his knife,” I warn.

Haymitch appears a few minutes later with Finnick and neither of them seem upset or wet. Seems like Finnick is better at waking Haymitch than I am, and I remind myself to ask Finnick for some tips the next time I get a chance. 

My former mentor is barely in his seat when Rue and Peeta have finished filling up the new pack with supplies and begin examining the pile.

“So, I’m thinking we set a fire,” Peeta says, looking over his shoulder at the guard fire the Careers left behind. “What do you think?”

“I think that might be our best bet,” Rue says, nodding. “But it’s going to take a lot of work so we better move quickly.”

As Rue and Peeta start gathering up the wood necessary for the pyre, Finnick disappears into the other resting room to wake Johanna. She appears a few moments later without him.

“Finnick’s tired,” she explains. “He said that we can tell him all about it when he wakes up later.”

It takes them quite a while to gather up all the necessary materials and assemble them correctly. When they’re done, Peeta heads over to the campfire that was left as a warning and carefully pulls a burning log from it before placing it in a strategic location in the mound. Rue follows suit and after a few trips from both of them, the supply pile begins to burn. Peeta then disassembles the tents and throws them top of the pile, making sure to leave the Careers with nothing but whatever they had on them.

Rue and Peeta allow themselves a few second to marvel at their work before they start making their way back around the lake to the little area that they had spent the previous night.

The fire engulfing the supplies begins to give off a lot of smoke and I worry that the Careers might notice it and start heading back to their camp before all the supplies are completely ruined. Luck is not on the side of the Careers, however, as it takes hours before Cato notices the unusual amount of smoke coming from the direction that they came from.

“The camp!” Cato explains before sprinting off in that direction. 

As he had been in front, he passes Misu and Marvel on his charge back to the lake. The two of them stare dumbly at the retreating back of the District 2 boy before they, too, notice the smoke.

“Oh, no!” Misu exclaims as Marvel mutters an expletive before the two of them take off after Cato. 

The three of them had been walking for hours by this time, but it had been the slow, careful step of a hunting pace. Now, Cato was barreling through the forest at his top speed, probably hoping he’d make it back in time to stop whatever is happening or at least destroy whoever did it. It still takes him a while to get back there and by the time he does, there’s nothing left to salvage. He’s still standing there, panting and just seething with rage, when Marvel arrives a little while later. 

“You!” Cato says, storming over to his fellow Career. “You said no one would dare come to our camp! You said to leave a fire as a warning!”

Marvel doesn’t even have time to defend himself before the larger boy is on him. Cato grabs the other boy by the head and the next thing I know, Marvel drops to ground with his neck broken. 

The cannon fires just as Misu finally arrives.


	18. The Boy and the Berries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The number of tributes shrinks again. And the mentors find out that there's something big in the works.

Misu stares at Cato as he stands seething with Marvel’s dead body slumped unceremoniously in front of him. She looks at the charred, smoking remains of what used to be their supplies with confusion etched on her face. She cautiously approaches the only other surviving member of the Career Pack.

“Cato?” Misu calls softly when she’s a little more than an arm’s reach away from him. “What happened here?”

He turns on her, eyes blazing with fury. “What does it look like? Someone came to our camp and destroyed everything we had!”

“Okay,” she says, nodding slowly. She takes a few steps forward and nudges the corpse of the fallen Career with her foot. “And what about him?”

“It was his fault that this happened,” he growls, his hands curling into fists. “He was the one who was so sure that we could leave the camp and the supplies unguarded. I trusted his judgment and this is the result!”

She softly places a hand on his arm. “Come on, Cato. We should get out of here so that they can collect the body.”

Cato kicks at the body and there is a sickening crunch when his foot meets the face of the dead boy. He kicks at it a handful of times more before Misu manages to drag Cato away. He breaks away from her grip easily, though, and marches back and spits on the corpse. 

“Gloss isn’t going to be too happy with Brutus,” Johanna says and I agree, knowing that the mentor from District 1 tended to take attacks on his tributes personally. I always thought that it was strange considering how little he seemed to actually care about the tributes themselves.

“Let’s hope he doesn’t catch Brutus when he’s drunk or we’ll have a repeat of the groping incident,” Haymitch says, alluding to an event that happened a few years ago. Brutus had been way past his normal alcohol limit and had apparently touched Cashmere inappropriately. When Gloss found out, there had been a nasty scuffle between the two Victors in which both of them ended up severely injured and had to spend some time in the hospital recuperating. 

I don’t know the specifics, but Finnick told me that both parties were aggressively punished for their behavior. Like Snow had told me a few days ago, he likes it when his Victors behave civilly. 

Not wanting to think anymore on the President or his threats, I turn my attention to Peeta and Rue. The two of them wear expressions of shock as they watch the scene unfold before them from the relative safety of their little patch of forest. Peeta takes Rue’s hand and begins pulling her deeper into the forest and away from the lake. Her feet just don’t seem to want to move quick enough and he scoops her up in his arms and quickly tries to leave the scene behind them.

Meanwhile, Cato and Misu watch as the hovercraft comes and takes Marvel’s body from the arena. Once it disappears from view again, Cato seems to lose it again and begins pounding his fists on the ground. 

Misu looks ill-equipped to deal with him and I can see her playing with the handle of the knife at her belt. “Cato?”

Her voice seems to calm him enough to start acting like a human being, and he gets up from the ground. Cato is still furious, however and screams to sky, “Whoever did this is going to pay!”

“Who do you think was responsible for this?” Misu asks, letting the knife go but keeping her hand near it.

“That’s smart,” Johanna says, sarcastically. “Make him think about it more. So what if he gets mad again? I mean, there‘s absolutely _no reason_ to think that he would turn on someone in his alliance...”

I smirk but don’t say anything, not wanting to miss a moment of Cato’s reaction. But, to my disappointment, he doesn’t fly off the handle this time, he just surveys the area. “Whoever it was, they were smart.”

“Well, that leaves out the boy from 11,” Misu says. “Anyone built like an ox is usually as smart as one.”

I find her comment to be somewhat directed at her large companion but he doesn’t realize it. Which, I guess, lends credence to what she said.

“And they’d also have to be brave enough to risk coming into our camp like that,” Cato says and his fists clench again. “I think we can rule out the baby from 11. I think she would stay as far away from us as possible.”

“I agree,” Misu says. “What about the other girl?”

“I keep forgetting that there’s another girl left. What district is she from again?” Cato asks and Misu shrugs. “I guess it doesn’t matter because I know that _he’s_ the one who did it.”

“Seeing that Peeta is the only other male left, I‘m guessing that‘s who you‘re talking about,” Misu says and I can’t quite decipher her tone.

“Are you telling me that you don‘t agree?”

“No, I‘m definitely not saying that,” she says. “I think that he’s definitely the one who did this. Peeta’s a natural at starting fires, at least that’s what the instructor at the fire station said when we were training. He said that he had a lot of practice with the oven in his father’s bakery.”

“So, you knew he was going to do this?”

“I have no idea where you got that from what I said,” Misu replies as she puts some space between them. “To be honest, I’m actually surprised that he manned up enough to pull this off.”

Cato glares at her. “Are you impressed or something?”

“Maybe a little,” she tells him. “But not for the reason you think; I’m impressed with his stupidity. I may have given him too much credit if he thinks that angering you was a good idea.”

He cracks his neck menacingly. “Lover Boy better watch out, because I’m coming after him now.”

“We should probably get out of here,” Misu says. “Makes no sense to just stick around now that everything is destroyed.”

Suddenly Cato curses loudly.

“What now?” Misu says without an ounce of patience in her voice.

“I forgot to grab the things off him before they took his body,” he fumes. “He had the spear and all the spearheads.”

“He also had the water,” she sighs and lets out a stream of curses herself. “What are we going to do?”

Just then a silver parachute floats down in front of Cato. He grins when he sees the water bottle his mentor sent him. A second silver parachute appears, this one obviously meant for Misu. She scoops it up and smirks at her own bottle of water.

I look over at Haymitch and confirm that he’s the one who sent it to her. I push the feeling of betrayal aside, knowing that he was just doing his job. I grab the computer and check her account and find that it’s practically empty now. Unless she does something really spectacular that impresses the sponsors, we’re not going to be able to afford the next time she needs help.

As Misu and Cato restart their trek to the dense stretch of trees that they believe serves as Rue’s hiding place. I turn my attention to my other tribute who has slowed down his pace, but hasn’t stopped walking.

I watch him for a few minutes before Rue starts squirming in his arms. “I can walk now, Peeta; thank you.”

Peeta stops and places her down onto her feet. “I think we’re far enough away that we can rest for a bit if you’d like,” he tells her. 

She nods and sits down on a fallen tree; Peeta sits beside her on the log and hands her some dried beef and crackers that they took from the supply pile. Rue takes it and thanks him before she gulps it down.

As Peeta starts in on his share, Rue turns to look at him with a growing smile on her face. “We did it, we actually did it!”

“We did.”

“Oh, but I feel so bad for the boy from District 1,” she says. “I can’t believe that the boy from District 2 killed him like that.”

“Rue, you can’t feel bad for the boy from District 1,” Peeta tells her without any harshness to his voice. “You know that he wasn’t a good guy. He would have killed you had he been given the chance.”

“I know that,” Rue says. “But to be killed by a friend? I can’t imagine that he deserved that.”

“I doubt that Cato and Marvel were really friends,” Peeta says. “They had an alliance, but I think it was purely motivated by necessity rather than by any personal feelings on either side.”

“Peeta, is that the kind of alliance that you and I have?”

Peeta breathes out hard through his nose. “No, we don’t. I think of you as my friend, Rue.”

She smiles broadly, showing everyone that his answer was the one that she was hoping for. “I think of you as my friend, too.”

“I’m glad that we’ve got that settled,” he says before giving her some of his share of food. “Here, you can have this, too.”

“Are you sure?” Rue asks and he nods in reply. She stuffs it all in her mouth and grins. “Thank you.”

“I was thinking that perhaps we should go back to the cave tonight,” Peeta says, repacking all the things he took out. “I know that it’s a long walk, but being in there was the safest I’ve felt since the Games started.”

“I know what you mean,” she says, as she swallows the last bit of cracker. “There’s something comforting about there only being one entrance.”

“So you don’t mind?” Peeta asks and she shakes her heard. “Good. If you get tired, I can always carry you.”

“I’m sure I’ll be fine as long as we keep the same pace as we did yesterday,” she tells him.

“Okay,” he says, and the two set off towards the cave. 

It’s a long boring afternoon of walking for both of my tributes. The only real moment of excitement happens when, an hour after the sun sets, Cato gets another gift from Brutus. It is a picnic basket full of breads, meats, and cheeses. 

When Misu reaches for a roll, Cato swats her hand away hard. “What do you think you’re doing?”

She ignores his question and she looks down at her hand. “Cato, what the hell was that about?”

“You can’t have this; it’s mine,” he says before stuffing his mouth with a roll smeared with cheese.

“You must be joking,” she gets out, staring at him in disbelief. He gives a look that shows her how serious he’s being. “But I’m hungry!”

“Then get your mentors to send you something,” he says and goes back to gorging himself on the mini-feast that he received.

I look at the updated menu on the computer. The prices have gone up considerably since this morning and the little money that remains in Misu’s account isn’t enough to buy a small bread roll.

When Misu realizes that she’s getting nothing from Haymitch and me, she turns back to Cato. After what feels like an eternity of her pleading and begging and cajoling, Cato finally shares a small portion of his meal with her. After that the two of them decide to stop there for the night and work out a sleep schedule. 

On the left screen, I see that Peeta and Rue have reached the stream just as the anthem begins to play. When the song ends, they both stop and stare up as Marvel’s picture is projected in the sky. With their solemn faces, the two of them show more respect than Cato and Misu; she looks at the photo with a smirk while he ignores the whole thing altogether.

I wait until Rue and Peeta are safe and secure inside the cave before I go off to rest. I am exhausted and I barely make it to the bed. It seems like I’ve just closed my eyes when I feel someone shaking me awake.

Blinking my eyes into focus, I see that my rude awakening comes at the hands of Johanna. “Is Peeta in trouble?” I ask, my voice thick with sleep.

“No, but-”

“Good,” I interrupt her. Then I roll onto my side, away from her, and try to get back to sleep.

“Katniss!” Johanna sounds exasperated. “Get up!”

“Why?” I whine, flopping onto my back to look at her again.

“Because you’ve been asleep for twelve hours and it’s my turn to use the bed that doesn’t smell like Haymitch!”

Twelve hours? Has it really been that long? By the expression on Johanna’s face, I can tell that it has. I sit up and my body screams in protest as I climb out of the warm, comfortable bed.

“It’s all yours,” I tell her and I shuffle my way out of the resting room. Finnick gives me a smile as I flop down into my chair next to him. I am glad that he’s putting our disagreement yesterday behind him.

“What’s going on?” I ask between yawns.

“Cato is throwing a temper tantrum,” Finnick says.

“Again?” 

Haymitch sighs. “Yes, again.”

“What’s got him so wound up this time?” I ask.

“The fact that Brutus hasn’t sent him breakfast, despite Cato‘s obvious need for it” Finnick tells me. 

“That’s strange,” I say, furrowing my brow. It wasn’t like Brutus to do that as he usually tended to the needs and wants of his tributes. “Do you think that Cato doesn’t have any money left in his account?”

“It’s doubtful that‘s the reason,” Haymitch says, frowning at the image of the boy pulling his hair out. 

Finnick smirks. “I would guess that it could be that Brutus just doesn’t like the kid, if it wasn’t for Cato’s winning personality.”

Haymitch ignores Finnick and turns to me. “By the way, you missed a couple of interesting developments while you were sleeping.”

Fearing the worst, my eyes immediately dart to Peeta‘s screen. To my immense relief, he appears to be uninjured and in a fairly good mood as he walks beside the stream. Now that I know Peeta’s safe, I start trying to calm my heart that is pounding in my chest as I ask, “Like what?” 

“The girl from District 5 has been following Rue and Peeta ever since they burnt the supplies at the Career camp,” Haymitch tells me. “I only realized it last night during one of the recaps.”

“Should I be worried?” I ask the both of them.

“I don’t know,” Finnick tells me. “Maybe? I mean, if she was going to do something, she probably would have done it while they slept last night. It would have been easy to have taken care of the two of them like that.”

“I think she’s just waiting for the numbers to thin down a little more before she makes her move,” Haymitch says. “She’s in a great position; people keep forgetting that she even exists. As of right now, there‘s far too many dangerous people still alive in the arena. Mark my words, She’ll stay hidden until at least two of the three boys left are taken care of.”

“So why is she following Peeta and Rue, then?” I ask, thinking that it would have probably been safer for her to stay put.

“Who knows,” Finnick says. “Maybe she’s bored and thinks they’ll be more interesting than the boy from District 11.”

“Thresh still hasn’t left the wheat field?” 

“Not as far as I can tell: but then again, they haven’t shown him since mandatory viewing last night,” Haymitch tells me. 

“Why would he move?” Finnick asks. “He’s got food and cover there and no one’s gone after him yet.”

“He’s a lot smarter than Misu and Cato give him credit for,” I say. “However, his safety makes him boring and we all know how much the Gamemakers hate tributes who are boring.”

“That’s true,” Finnick says, nodding. “He’s lucky that Cato and Peeta are so damn interesting.”

I watch Peeta continue walking by himself when I realize that someone should be with him. “Where’s Rue?”

“Ah, that was the other thing,” Haymitch tells me. “She slipped on some rocks earlier and hurt her ankle.”

“Is it bad?”

Finnick shakes his head. “It didn’t look it, but Peeta thought it would be best if she stayed off it for the rest of the day. He hid the entrance to the cave and is now looking for some berries that they can have for lunch.”

“I don’t understand,” I say, raising an eyebrow. “Didn’t they just get a bunch of food from the camp?”

“Rue thought it would be best to save it just in case of an emergency.”

“I can’t argue with that logic,” I say. “And by looks of things, it seems like Peeta couldn’t either.”

We watch as he steps away from the stream and starts looking around. It’s a different part of the forest than where it was that Rue showed Peeta the berry bush, but it doesn’t matter as Peeta finds a different one in this area.

The screen showing what’s being televised across Panem suddenly switches over to Peeta as he picks a half a dozen handfuls of berries. When the pouch he brought with him is full, he starts back towards the stream. The camera stays on the bush for some reason, and twenty seconds later Foxface appears. She takes a quick look around and grabs a bunch of the berries and puts them in her mouth. She goes to grab another fistful when she collapses.

“Wait. What happened? Did I miss something?” I ask but I notice that both Finnick and Haymitch look as confused as I feel. 

The cannon goes off and then the camera zooms in on the berries. Immediately I understand what happened.

“Nightlock,” I say just as the words appear on the screen with a small explanation of what they are.

“Lethally poisonous berries found in and near Districts 11 and 12. The poison in the juices are so potent that it can kill anyone who ingests it instantly,” Finnick says, reading the explanation. 

“Oh no, Peeta!” I shriek in horror, suddenly realizing how perilous the situation is for him. I turn my attention to him and I can see that he’s running at top speed back to the cave. “Haymitch! We have to warn him!”

“Sure, I’ll just call him and tell him not eat the death berries,” he says; his sarcasm trying to hide the fact that he’s scared, too.

“Send him a package of berries,” Finnick suggests. “They’ll probably eat those instead of the ones he picked.”

“Good idea,” Haymitch says as he grabs his computer.

I watch as Peeta stops short a few feet in front of the cave and examines it warily. The tension in his body seems to lessen when he notices that the hidden entrance is undisturbed. He carefully makes his way into the cave and as soon as he’s in there, Rue throws her arms around him.

“You’re okay!” Rue manages to get out through her sobs. “I heard the cannon and I thought that…”

I hear Haymitch let out a curse but I’m too focused on the reunion to ask him what’s going on. He gives her a big squeeze, and I can see in his face how relieved he is that she is still alive. “Let’s not think about that right now, okay?”

“Okay.”

He smiles at her. “Good. So, I hope you’re hungry because I got a huge haul of berries for us.”

Haymitch curses again and I finally turn to him. “What is taking so long? They’re going to start eating them any second now.”

“I can’t access the menu,” he tells me. “I’ve tried about a dozen times now and I keep getting the message that the menu is unavailable right now.”

I grab my computer and try it myself. Sure enough, instead of pulling up the menu, I am given a message stating the unavailability of it. I resist the urge to throw the computer across the room.

Instead I watch with a heavy heart as Peeta hands Rue the pouch and starts spreading a clear plastic sheet on the floor. Rue opens the bag and pulls out a berry and thankfully she doesn’t immediately pop it into her mouth. She studies it critically and then her eyes widen.

She throws the pouch away from her as if it contained deadly snakes. It causes the berries to fly out and scatter all over the floor of the cave. Peeta stands there, looking flabbergasted at what he just saw.

“Rue?” Peeta’s tone is questioning. “Are you okay?”

“You didn’t eat any of those, did you?” Rue asks him. “No, of course you didn’t. If you had you would be dead by now.”

Peeta blinks. “I don’t understand.”

“These berries are known as Nightlock,” she informs him. “They’re really poisonous. I’ve heard that the second the juices touch your stomach you die.”

He looks horrified. “I didn’t know. They looked so similar to the ones that we ate the other day, that I just assumed they were the same thing. I‘m so sorry, I should have been more careful.”

The girl looks around at the mess she made and gives him a sheepish smile. “Well, I’m sorry that I threw the pouch like that.”

“It’s okay,” he assures her. “I’ll clean it up; it’s the least I can do after you saved my life.”

Rue scrunches up her face in embarrassment. “I kinda owed it to you after all the times you saved me.”

“I guess we’re even now,” he says as he bends down to start picking up some of the foul berries at his feet.

“Be careful not to get any of the juice on you,” Rue cautions him. 

“I will,” he says as he grabs the plastic sheet to help him with the task. He puts them all back into the pouch. When he’s managed to grab every last one of the berries, he goes outside and dumps the lot of them into the stream.

When he comes back, Rue hands him some food from the Careers’ supply pile. He raises his eyebrow as he takes it. “I thought we were supposed to be saving this for an emergency.”

“I think almost eating Nightlock counts,” she says, trying to suppress a smile. Then she grows serious. “I’m glad you’re safe.”

“The feeling is mutual, Rue,” He tells her and they spend the rest of their meal in comfortable silence.

Meanwhile, over at Misu’s screen, Cato seems to have calmed down at the sound of the cannon and is talking about how he doesn’t care who died as long as it wasn’t Peeta, because if anyone was going to kill “Lover Boy” it was going to be Cato. 

I count Misu roll her eyes seven times during his rant. 

Just then, the door to the monitoring station opens without a warning and a Peacekeeper steps in. I stiffen, worried that I’m being summoned to see Snow again. 

Finnick grabs my hand protectively as Haymitch stands up and angrily demands, “What is the meaning of this?”

The Peacekeeper, who looks barely in his twenties, falters a bit. “S-sorry, s-sir, I was t-told to deliver a message to the m-m-mentors of District 12.”

“Who is the message from?” Haymitch asks.

“Head Gamemaker, S-Seneca Crane,” the young Peacekeeper says, managing to get through the sentence while only stuttering once.

“What does he want?” I ask, confused. Mentors never get messages from the Gamemakers.

The Peacekeeper swallows hard and begins to speak slowly and delibrately. “He wanted me to inform you both that all sponsoring activity has been suspended indefinitely. More information regarding the situation will be forthcoming.”

Haymitch and I share an unhappy look. There’s only one reason why Seneca Crane would stop sponsoring…

He’s planning a feast.


	19. The Boy at the Feast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peeta tells Rue a story. The cannon fires twice.

“Thank you for passing along the message,” Finnick says, when neither Haymitch nor I make any attempt to talk.

The Peacekeeper nods and backs out of the room, looking relieved. When he’s gone, I pound my fists on the arms of the chair in frustration. “Damn Seneca Crane! There’s obviously a feast coming up and we can’t even send Peeta anything to help him prepare for it.”

“At least now we now why Brutus didn’t send Cato any food this morning,” Finnick says. “Still, I am pretty sure that there’s never been a time that the Gamemakers suspended all sponsoring activity before.”

“I’ve never heard of it happening before,” Haymitch says. “Mags would know best; she’s been around the longest.”

“What I don’t understand is why they would do it now?” I say, frowning. “What’s the point of it?”

“The Gamemakers needed to be sure that everyone went to the feast,” Haymitch says. “With Peeta’s large account, he really didn’t have any reason to put himself in danger by going to the feast.”

“But Peeta doesn’t know how much money is in his account,” I reason.

Beside me, Finnick nods, understanding what Haymitch is trying to say. “ _He_ doesn‘t, but you do.”

“So?”

“What would you have done if Peeta even contemplated going to the feast?” Finnick asks me. 

I think about what my actions would have been and I get it. “I see what you’re saying. I would have tried to convince him not to go by sending him food and supplies. So, he’s being punished because I would have been a good mentor.”

Haymitch shakes his head. “No, he’s being punished because the Gamemakers need excitement.”

“When do you think the feast’s going to be?” I ask, and I‘m torn between wanting to get it over with and wanting it to be a long time in the future.

“Probably sometime tomorrow,” Haymitch says. “The Gamemakers seem determined to make the Games end before it reaches the two week mark.”

\---------

The rest of the day is pretty uneventful. Cato and Misu are both in sour moods and barely say two words to each other as they wander around looking for the surviving three tributes. Peeta goes berry hunting again, but this time he brings Rue along with him. She directs which fruits are edible from her position on Peeta’s back. I am glad that the Gamemakers allowed them to have this time to laugh and joke around before they drop the bomb about the feast.

Once night falls, Peeta starts carrying Rue and their berries back to their cave. They are only a few feet away when trumpets sound. Peeta stops and Rue peeks over his shoulder at the sky.

The voice of Claudius Templesmith booms throughout the arena, “Greetings to the final five contestants of the 74th Hunger Games. As some of you may have noticed, there have been a distinct lack of sponsorship gifts today.”

Cato curses loudly in response to that.

“And there is a reason for that,” Claudius continues. “All sponsorship activity has been suspended in preparation for the feast. Yes, you heard correctly. There will be a feast tomorrow morning at the Cornucopia and your presence is requested.”

Cato and Misu actually cheer loudly when they hear the news, while Peeta and Rue share a look over his shoulder and both shake their heads before he starts heading back to the cave. 

“Now, I know that some of you are thinking of declining the invitation,” Claudius says, and it almost seems directed at Peeta and Rue. “And believe me when I say that it would be a very bad idea. While attendance isn‘t mandatory, things might get unpleasant for those who don‘t show up.”

Peeta frowns deeply at this and Rue’s grip on his shoulders tightens. They both know that they will not be skipping the festivities. 

“As a reward for showing up, there will be special packages for each and every one of you,” Claudius says. “And of course, all sponsoring activity will resume as normal once the feast concludes. One final thing, the surviving tributes will have a substantial amount deposited into their accounts.”

Just as Claudius starts giving the tributes all the important details about the feast and reiterating how important it is for them to be there, Peeta and Rue get inside the cave and start dejectedly packing up all their gear into their respective packs. When the announcer has finished explaining, he signs off with, “Don’t forget to be on time and may the odds be ever in your favor!”

And then there’s silence. Cato and Misu, both in a significantly better mood, start heading back towards the direction of the Cornucopia. Meanwhile, Rue finishes packing her things and turns to Peeta, who is struggling to fit as much things into the large pack as possible.

“I think we should start towards the Cornucopia as soon as you’re done,” Rue says. “He made it very clear that we shouldn’t be late.”

“I completely agree with you,” Peeta says, as he attempts to close the overfull backpack. By sheer force of will, he manages to get the thing zipped shut. “Finally… All right, I’m done; are you ready to go?”

“Yes,” she says and Peeta walks over to her and squats down so she can climb on his back again. “I’m not going to let you carry me all the way back there.”

“It’s fine,” Peeta says, not moving from his crouching position. “You barely weigh anything. I wouldn’t even notice the extra weight.”

Rue was fairly small, no doubt from years of malnutrition, and looked like she weighed less than the heavy bags of flour I’d seen Peeta haul around, but even a little extra weight would make the trip harder on him.

She shakes her head stubbornly. “I can walk.”

“But what about your ankle?”

She takes a couple of steps away from him. “It feels fine after being off it all day. Honestly, it doesn’t hurt anymore.”

Peeta is skeptical. “It’s a very long trip, Rue. I don’t want it getting aggravated by all the walking.”

“I’ll be fine,” she says. “And if I’m not, then that’s when I’ll climb onto your back, okay?”

“Fine,” Peeta says, standing back up. “But you have to let me know the second that your ankle starts hurting.”

“I will,” she says, appeasing him and the two of them start their lengthy trip back to the Cornucopia.

The two of them take a small break when the anthem starts to play. When it ends and the picture of Foxface appears in the sky, Rue tells Peeta how she wishes she had spent more time getting to know the other tributes. When Peeta asks her if that wouldn’t have just made her sad when they had died, Rue shrugs and reminds him that it wouldn’t matter as she is already sad.

Peeta, not really knowing how to respond to that, helps Rue to her feet and they continue their walk to the Cornucopia.

Misu and Cato make excellent time and settle down for the night near the edge of the woods. Neither of them even bring up the idea of a sleep schedule and they both curl up into balls, trying to keep warm in the cold night air.

Because Peeta demands that they go at a slow and easy pace for the sake of her ankle, it takes them almost the full night to get to the lake. 

“What should we do?” Rue asks him, her voice a whisper as they carefully walk along the edge of the lake.

“I was thinking that perhaps you could hide up in a tree and keep lookout while I went in and grabbed our packages,” Peeta says.

“No, you heard what Claudius said. I have to actually show up or I risk whatever horrible consequence they have planned for those who are absent,” she says. “I know! I can hide inside the Cornucopia! The second the feast starts I can pop out and grab my package and make a run for it. Everyone will be so distracted, it will give you a chance to run in and grab yours.”

“I don’t like it,” Peeta says. “It’s too dangerous, Rue. What if Cato decides to follow you?”

“He’s not fast enough to keep up with me,” she tells him. “And no one else would be stupid enough to ignore their package in favor of trying to kill me.”

Peeta still looks unconvinced, but, because he isn’t able to come up with a better plan by the time that they reach the clearing, he has to let her go. Rue darts out into the open and races to the horn before disappearing inside it.

“Do you think anyone saw that?” Johanna asks me. 

“I really don’t know,” I reply. “I think it might be too dark to be able to see anything properly.”

I look at Misu’s screen and both her and Cato are still curled up on the ground, hopefully sleeping. While Cato is turned away from the Cornucopia, Misu is facing it and I worry that she might have seen something. But as the minutes pass and Misu doesn’t move from her spot, my anxiety lessens. Surely she would’ve reacted if she had seen something.

Peeta paces anxiously at the edge of the woods across the way from the opening of the Cornucopia. Every so often he stops, and squints into the horn. I don’t know what he sees or what he feels about it, because his worried expression never changes and then he starts to pace again.

Just as the sun begins to rise, shining light on the golden horn, Misu sits up and shakes Cato awake. When the two of them stand, Misu leans in and begins whispering something to Cato. Even the incredible Capitol microphones aren’t strong enough to pick up what she is saying.

But when she points at the Cornucopia, I feel my heart drop to my stomach. I just know that she saw Rue dart into the horn earlier and I really wish I could hear what she is telling Cato about it.

They share a smirk before the two of them separate, going off in different directions. Neither of them make a run for the Cornucopia and I wonder if I might have been mistaken.

A little while later, the ground in front of the Cornucopia begins to shake before it breaks open, and a big wooden table rises. On the table, there are five different buttons, each bearing the name of one of the surviving tributes. In front of the button, there’s a chair on which there’s a pack that has the corresponding name on it.

The second that the table locks into place, Rue runs out of the mouth of the Cornucopia and to the table. She quickly grabs her pack and pushes her button before running off into the woods. I watch in horror as Rue seems to be running straight at where Misu is. At the last moment, she veers slightly to left and out of Misu’s reach. However my tribute immediately takes off after her.

All this is blocked from Peeta’s view by the Cornucopia itself, and so he makes a run at the table instead of trying to save Rue from Misu. Just then, Cato comes barreling out into view chasing after Peeta. Peeta’s too quick, however, and he manages to push his button and grab his bag before Cato is able to close the distance. Peeta runs towards the general area that Rue disappeared into.

Cato stops at the table, trying to decide whether to chase after Peeta or to grab his stuff and push his button. He is so absorbed in the decision-making process, that he doesn’t hear Thresh come up behind him and hit him in the back of the head. Cato falls forward, hitting his face on the edge of the table, but it doesn’t knock him out. As Thresh reaches for his own pack, Cato stands up and tackles the bigger boy to the ground. 

The two of them skirmish around on the ground for a bit landing blows on each other when Thresh ends up in the superior position. He grabs a nearby rock in his right hand and is about to brain the boy from District 2 with it, when Cato manages to free his sword and stabs Thresh in the left arm.

Thresh yelps in pain and Cato takes the opportunity to bury the sword into the larger boy’s thigh. In response, Thresh brings the large rock down on Cato’s head. Unfortunately, the boy from District 2 doesn’t die from the attack, but is knocked unconscious. Thresh doesn’t seem to notice or care that Cato survived and the boy from District 11 stands up, his whole face contorting in pain. He grabs his pack and that of the unconscious boy lying nearby and presses the button with his own name on it. Then he limps his way back into the wheat field, leaving Cato sprawled on the ground, blood oozing out of the wound the rock made.

I’m no doctor, but I know that there’s no surviving the wound on Thresh’s thigh without immediate medical attention. But I don’t have time to worry about the large boy because I can see that Misu is still chasing Rue and is nearly on top of her now. Rue drops both of her packs on the ground and begins to scamper up a tree. She‘s not quick enough, however as Misu arrives just in time to pull her off of the tree. Rue lands hard on her back and finds herself staring up at the older girl. 

“Peeta!” Rue screams

Misu puts her hand on the little girl’s mouth. “Shh… little girl. We don’t want to be interrupted just yet. Although I should‘ve figured that you and him were working together, how else would you have survived this long?”

Rue’s eyes go wide as Misu pulls out her knife and she screams, the sound muffled by the hand over her mouth.

“You know he‘s going to go mad when he finds out you‘re dead,” Misu says, running the knife along the smaller girl’s arm. “Soft-hearted boy like Peeta will probably just walk into my knife in his grief.”

Rue says something that is muffled and then Misu shrieks in pain, lifting her hand from the little girl’s mouth. “You bit me, you brat!”

“PEETA! PEETA, HELP!” Rue calls out as loud as she can. 

Misu glares down at the girl and stabs the knife down into Rue’s chest, bringing out a scream from the eleven year old. I feel my heart clench at the sight of my tribute pulling out the bloody blade. Misu brings the knife up and it looks like she’s about to plunge it back in when Peeta’s voice stops her.

“RUE? RUE, WHERE ARE YOU?” 

Misu turns her head over her shoulder; she can tell by the sound of Peeta’s voice that he’s really close by. She gets up and runs in the opposite direction, circling back towards the Cornucopia. 

“RUE?” Peeta calls out again, this time only a few feet away from where the girl lies bleeding.

“Peeta?” Rue says, with as much strength as she can manage, and I hope that his hearing is good enough to find her.

He does hear her and suddenly he’s standing there, looking down at her. “Rue! What happened? Who did this to you?”

“Misu,” she says weakly.

.Peeta kneels beside her, his face set in a scowl. When he starts to examine her, he sees the dark blood bubbling out of the wound in her chest. He swallows hard and I can see his hands are shaking.

“I think you have to put pressure on the wound, right?” Peeta asks no one in particular. “That’s what that girl from District 4 said a few years ago.”

Rue shakes her head weakly. “Stop. It’s too late.”

“Don’t you say that,” he commands, his voice breaking. “It’s not too late as long as you’re still alive.”

“Peeta, please…” she begs. “I’m done.”

I have seen my mother deal with enough injuries like these to know that Rue is right, and I feel the warm tears on my cheeks.

“No,” he cries. “Don’t give up.”

A loud wet cough escapes her lips and it’s obvious that she doesn’t have much time. She takes his hand and squeezes it. “I knew I wasn’t going to win. I am glad I got to spend some time with you.”

“I’m glad I got to spend some time with you, too.”

“Don’t cry for me,” she says, softly. “At least, I get to go home now. If anything, I feel sorry for you because you have to stay here.”

“You actually sound like you feel sorry for me,” he says. “I guess I feel a little sorry for myself because I don’t know what I’m going to without you.”

“You are going to win, Peeta,” she tells him with as much force as she can muster in her weakened state. “You need to go back to that girl you love so much. Promise me that you’ll win.”

“I’ll try,” he says.

I see her hand tighten around his. “Promise me.”

He can tell that she’s serious. “I promise.”

She closes her eyes, her face relaxing. “Tell me a story.”

Peeta stares at her, looking like he can’t even comprehend what she is asking him to do. “A story?”

She coughs again, her features contorting into a mask of pain. “Yes, a happy one. A memory that always makes you smile.”

“Rue, I don’t know-”

“Please?”

He looks down at her, her life shortening with every beat of her heart. I know that he can’t refuse her final request.

“All right,” he says. I watch as his eyebrows knit in concentration for a few seconds before he says, “How about the first time I knew I was going to be in love with Katniss Everdeen for the rest of my life?”

She makes a small noise of approval and I can tell that even that brought on more pain than she could bear.

“I was five years old, going to school for the first time. You can imagine how nervous I was. All I could think was how horrible school was going to be and how no one was going to like me and things like that.”

He stops for a moment and watches Rue’s chest rise and fall with each labored breath. “I guess my father decided to get my mind of my anxiety and pointed out this beautiful little girl in a red plaid dress. She looked so different from every other girl I had ever seen up to that point. I remember being awed at the way her hair, which was in two perfect braids, was dark.”

As he’s describing this, I try to think back to my first day of school. The memory is foggy, at best, but I do remember that I used to wear my hair like that when I was younger.

“I was just staring at this girl and my father leans down and tells me that he wanted to marry her mother, but that she ended up marrying a coal miner instead,” Peeta says, his voice breaking. He clears his throat and continues, “I didn’t believe him at first because I couldn’t believe that anyone would choose to be a coal miner’s wife when they had a chance to marry a baker.”

I can feel Finnick and Johanna’s eyes on me, trying to gauge my reaction, but I can’t look away from the screen. I knew that my mother was from town and I had suspected that she’d had some suitors before my father, but I never even imagined that one of them would’ve been Peeta’s father.

Peeta blinks a couple of times, and a large tear rolls down his cheek. “When I asked my father about it, he told me that he’d never had a chance after she had heard Katniss’ father sing. My dad said that Mr. Everdeen’s voice was so beautiful that, when he sang, even the birds would stop to listen.”

I let out a choked sob at his words, and I know in my heart that every word he has said is true. Emotions course through me as I think of the kind baker telling his five year old son about my father.

Rue lets out a gurgled cough and Peeta looks like he’s about to break, but somehow he manages to keep going, “I still didn’t believe him; no one could have a voice like that. It wasn’t long before I found out how wrong I was. We were in music assembly and our teacher asked us who knew the valley song. We all knew it, of course, but we were all too shy to say anything. Except for Katniss, who immediately, loudly declared to everyone that she knew the song.”

Peeta closes his eyes. “And the teacher brought her in front of us and had her sing it. Time stopped for me then. There was no sound except for her beautiful voice as even the birds outside suddenly quieted down. At that moment I knew exactly why her mother had chosen her father because I knew I wouldn’t be able to be with any other girl than Katniss.”

A cannon goes off and Peeta opens his eyes and finds that Rue is still barely holding on. He brushes at the little bit of dirt on her forehead and places a kiss there and I get the impression that he doesn’t care who the cannon was for.

The screen switches to Thresh, lying in the wheat field, blood pooled all around his body. And then the hovercraft appears and takes Thresh and the two packs he took from the feast out of the arena.

The images goes back to Peeta and Rue. He’s openly weeping now, holding her hand, “I’m so sorry, Rue. All I wanted was to keep you safe from harm and I’m sorry that I failed.” 

“Peeta?’ Her voice is hoarse and no louder than a whisper. He looks at her with his red-rimmed eyes and as she talks you can hear the effort behind every word that she utters, “Don’t forget your promise.”

“I won’t,” he tells her. “I wish you could have heard Katniss sing.”

Her eyes flutter closed and the sound of the cannon is Peeta’s only answer. As he stands, Peeta presses the three middle fingers of his left hand to his lips before he holds it out to Rue.

I completely break down at that sight. It was a very old and seldom used gesture in District 12; I remember the last time I saw it was at my father’s funeral. I hear Haymitch explain the gesture to Finnick and Johanna, who hadn’t understood the implied admiration behind the action.

He places her hands crossed over her chest but leaves the rest of her undisturbed. Peeta grabs the packs that Rue had dropped and brings them over to her without even going through them. And with that he walks away from her body, but only far enough for the hovercraft to appear and take her away from the arena. I’m glad that she’s going home, but I really wish that it wasn’t going to be inside a coffin.

Now that Rue’s gone, Peeta’s grief isn’t enough to keep the attention and the middle screen focuses on Misu, who has just made her way back to the feast. No doubt she notices Cato lying on the ground, but she doesn’t even acknowledge it. Instead, she runs up to the table to grab the sole remaining pack and push her button. 

As she backs away from the table, a groan comes from the newly-conscious Cato. Misu looks surprised and moves near him as he sits up. He turns green and retches for a minute before looking at Misu.

“What?” Cato asks, wiping at his mouth.

“Nothing,” she says. “I just thought you were dead when I saw you lying there. Your head is bleeding, by the way.”

He glares at her as he gingerly touches where Thresh hit him with a rock. “Why did you think I was dead?”

She shrugs. “I heard two cannons and when I saw you, I thought that you had been the second one.”

“Wait,” he says, grabbing her hand. “Two cannons?”

Misu nods. “I took care of the little girl from 11.”

“Don’t you look pleased about it,” he says. “So the second one must have been for the boy. Good.”

She watches him as he tries to stand. “So what happened?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he says, moving towards the table. He stops a few feet from it. “Where’s my pack?”

“I don’t know. Mine was the only one left when I got here,” she says. “Maybe the boy from 11 took it.”

Cato’s face twists in rage. “I’m going to kill him!”

“You already did,” Misu says, sounding bored. “Remember? He’s dead and taken away, probably with your pack.”

He storms away from the table, cursing furiously when Misu chuckles. He turns to her, angry. “What is so funny?”

“You forgot to push your button,” Misu says pointing at the unlit one bearing Cato’s name.

He curses some more but makes his way back to the table and presses the button. “There.”

“I don’t understand why you’re so upset,” she says, jogging up to him as he starts walking towards the forest. 

“I didn’t get my pack,” he reminds her.

“Okay, I guess you do have a reason to be slightly upset.”

“You think?”

“But you seem to be overlooking all the reasons why you shouldn’t be upset,” she tells him.

“Like what?”

“Like that dumb ox from 11 is dead,” she says. “And that the little girl isn’t going to cause us anymore trouble. Oh, and best of all… There’s only us and Peeta left in the arena. How can you not smile at that?”


	20. The Boy and the Horror

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One tribute survives to become the Victor of the 74th Hunger Games.

Peeta, to his credit, swallows his grief and starts walking away from the scene of Rue’s death. He wanders around aimlessly for bit until he finds himself at the lake. That seems to have given him the chance to reorient himself and he starts heading off in the direction of the stream. 

Cato and Misu are startled when the table begins to lower back into the ground , the ground shaking again as it close up on top of it. Immediately, Cato is rewarded with another parachute. And while he’s busy looking over the basket of goodies that Brutus sent him, Misu takes advantage of his distractedness to peruse through the pack that she grabbed off of the table. She pulls out a little vial and seems to be confused what it’s for when she looks at the bottom of the bottle. Immediately her face breaks out in an evil grin and drops the vial back into her pack. 

“What was that?” Johanna asks. No one has an answer for her but I have a feeling that we will find out soon enough.

Misu eyes Cato gorging himself on the food from his sponsorship gift and demands a similar gift. Haymitch finds that Misu’s account has been reactivated and refilled with a good amount of funds. He sends her what she requests and my tribute is pleased as she starts to devour everything in it. 

I send one for Peeta, but he barely picks at the food. He does, however, bring the leftovers with him. As I watch him resume his slow and uneasy pace, there’s a knock on our door.

It opens a moment later and Chaff and Seeder walk in. Haymitch stands up and walks over to greet them. 

“I’m sorry,” Haymitch says, clapping his friend on the back. “It’s not easy to lose them so close to the end.”

“It wasn’t easy,” Seeder agrees. “But we’re not here for your sympathies.”

“You have a good boy, there,” Chaff tells Haymitch and me. “His grief over Rue’s death made it seem like she mattered.”

“But she did matter!” I argue, not being able to believe that her own mentor would think anything else.

Seeder smiles at me. “Of course she did, to us. But Chaff is talking about the citizens of the Capitol.”

“What does that mean?” Finnick asks. 

“Nothing, nothing,” Seeder says, waving him off a little too quickly. And I know that there’s something more to it; something that she doesn’t want to talk about while the Capitol is probably listening.

Chaff gives her a warning look before turning back to Haymitch. “Listen, Seed and I got a message from a rep back at our District. Seems like there was a vote and it was decided that District 11 wants to give your boy a gift as thanks for taking such good care of our Rue.”

“That isn’t necessary,” Haymitch says, shaking his head. “The boy has more than enough money in his account.”

“That is good to hear,” Seeder says, smiling. “But the people in our District want to show their gratitude.”

My computer pings in my lap. 

“Sounds like it’s too late to argue, anyway,” Chaff says, chuckling. “Just make sure you send him something memorable.”

“I know exactly what to send him,” Haymitch says and he walks over and grabs my computer from me. 

“What is it?” I ask, curious.

“I’m going to send him some District 11 bread,” Haymitch tells me.

“Symbolism,” Finnick says, quirking an eyebrow. “How fun.”

“Peeta’s a son of a baker,” Haymitch reminds him. “And his father taught him how to make the distinctive bread of all the Districts. There’s no doubt that he’ll recognize the gift for what it is.”

“I didn’t know that,” I say.

My former mentor turns to me. “He told me while we were getting him ready for the interview. Apparently when a Victor comes to District 12 during the Victory Tour, Peeta’s father always makes sure to bake some bread from the Victor’s district and when he turned ten, Peeta took over the job.”

Johanna looks surprised. “He made those? I remember how much I hated how depressing District 12’s celebration was then I saw the bread and was kinda pleased to have this little token from home. They tasted so much like the ones from District 7 that I never even imagined that it had been made there. I had thought that the Mayor just had them imported or something.”

Finnick’s eyes gloss over. “Those rolls were the only thing that kept Annie from having an episode when we were in District 12. Mags stole a dozen of them and gave her one each time we were in a new District. They were pretty stale by the time that we got to the Capitol, but Annie didn’t seem to mind.”

I am moved by the recollections of my friends. During my celebration, I had noticed the presence of the bread because it was the exact same type as the ones that Peeta had tossed to me that night in the rain. At the time, I had just thought it was coincidence, but now I know better.

We watch in silence as the silver parachute falls right at Peeta’s feet. He bends down and picks it up. A look of recognition flashes across his face when he unwraps the gift. Peeta holds up the bread and in a clear, loud voice announces, “My deepest gratitude to the people of District 11 for this wonderful present. I will cherish this just as I cherish the time I got to spend with Rue. Thank you.”

He sits down and eats the whole roll. Once done, he gives his thanks again and continues his journey.

“He’s a good boy,” Seeder says. “Rare to see one of those in the arena these days. Even rarer to see one survive for so long.”

At her words I immediately burst out crying. I don’t know why, but I can’t help the tears pouring down my face. I feel like I have no control over my emotions right now and they keep spilling out of me. I try to look at Haymitch but I find my vision is blurred by my tears. 

I feel Finnick’s hand on my shoulder. “Katniss, I think you should go to bed now,” he tells me.

I try to lie and tell him that I don’t feel remotely tired, but all that comes out of my mouth is a blubbering mess.

“It’s been very emotional, and it’s been over a full day since you’ve slept,” Haymitch tells me. “Go to sleep. You’ll feel better, I promise.”

As I still haven’t been able to get myself to stop crying, I decide that I should probably listen. To my surprise, Johanna takes my arm and leads me to the resting room. She helps me into bed and even tucks me in. It is so out of character for her that I can’t help but wonder if I’m already asleep and dreaming.

“Sleep, Squirrel,” she tells me. “It will all be over soon.”

\---------

I awaken, hours later, feeling significantly better. My body feels refreshed, but the restful sleep has done nothing for my emotional exhaustion. I walk out of the resting room to find that the mentors from District 11 have left. 

“How are you feeling?” Finnick asks when he notices me.

“Better,” I answer, before sitting down. 

“So, do you want to hear the good news or the bad news first,” Johanna says, looking remarkably irritated.

“You couldn’t have given her a few minutes before bringing it up?” Haymitch asks, glaring at Johanna.

“I know her, and she’d want to know as soon as possible,” she tells him, matching his glare.

“‘She’ is right here, you know,” I remind them. “But Jo’s right. I’d rather know now rather than later.”

“Bad news it is, then,” Johanna says, when neither of the men attempt to speak. “The Gamemakers drained the stream.”

“What?”

“And we noticed that, when they resumed sponsorship activity, they updated the menu to exclude all water,” Johanna continues.

“That was another reason for the feast, wasn’t it?” I ask. “So that the Gamemakers would have the time to drain every water source from the arena.”

“Except for the lake,” Finnick reminds me.

“Of course,” I say. “Does Peeta know?”

“He got to the bone-dry bed where the stream used to be,” Haymitch says. “He didn’t look terribly surprised and it didn’t stop him from going back into the cave. He’s there now, sleeping.”

“So, he’s going to have to make his way back to the lake tomorrow,” I say. “That’s got to be disheartening.”

“At least he’ll be well-rested for the long trip back,” Finnick points out. “And he’s still got at least three full bottles of water on him.”

“That better have not been the good news,” I say, wishing that I hadn’t bothered to get out of bed.

Haymitch shakes his head. “When he got to the cave, he finally opened the pack that he got at the Cornucopia.”

“What did he get?”

“Some high-tech body armor,” Haymitch says and I can see the grin on his face. “It should offer him some protection from Misu’s knife and Cato’s sword. The only bad thing is that it didn’t come with a face guard.”

“Armor?” I ask. “Really? That’s completely unheard of.”

“And more than a little unfair to the other tributes,” Johanna says. “But are you going to complain about that?”

I shake my head, but I can’t help but wonder why the Gamemakers would send him such a game-breaking gift. Unless… they were specifically told to do so by someone that not even they could ignore. Haymitch and I meet eyes and I know that I’m not the only who thinks that Snow had his hand in this.

“Well, I think I’ll head to bed,” Haymitch says. 

“Good night,” I call to him.

He grunts in response and disappears. Johanna decides to take advantage of my empty bed and leaves Finnick and me alone.

“Aren’t you tired?” I ask him.

“I took a nap earlier,” he says. He sighs loudly a couple of times before I turn to look at him. “Listen, Katniss, I want to apologize for the conversation we had a few nights ago. I wrong to even suggest that… I shouldn’t have said what I did, and I want you to know that I’m sorry about that.”

“You really shouldn’t have said it,” I agree. “But I understand that you were just looking out for me.”

“Remember earlier, when I said that our district bread was the only thing that kept Annie from having an episode?” Finnick asks me and I nod in answer. “It was much more than that. At the celebration, Annie had made the decision that she was going to end her life that night, and she somehow managed to slip away from Mags and me. As she was reaching for the knife that she was going to use to slit her throat, she saw the basket full of those rolls.”

I stare at Finnick, not knowing what to say or do in the situation.

“I was going crazy looking for her when she ran up to me, a smile lighting up her face. Seeing her like that made it feel like I had been transported back in time to before she entered the arena,” he tells me. “I was so happy, thinking that she had somehow gotten better. But then she spoke. ‘Look, Finnick,’ she had said, showing me the rolls. ‘Just like the ones at home. I don’t want to die tonight.’”

I can’t help the gasp that escapes me and futilely cover my mouth with my hands. “She actually said that to you?”

He nods. “There are nights that I dream that she hadn’t seen the bread or had gotten a different a knife and I lose her. And now I come to find out that I owe Peeta for saving Annie’s life all those years ago.” 

“I don’t know what to say,” I lamely tell him.

“It’s okay,” he assures me. “Do you remember what you told me when I asked you if Peeta was normal that day at the Remake Center?”

I think back and I nod. “I told you that he was special.”

“And you were right,” he says. “But I think he’s more special than even you give him credit for.”

“I don’t understand,” I say.

“Well, then I’ll just have to explain it to you,” he tells me, with a smirk. “ _After_ he wins, of course.”

\---------

The rest of the night went by slowly, even with Finnick as company. He tried his best to distract me; but it proved to be impossible, as he seemed to be as anxious for Peeta as I was.

Misu awakens just after dawn and demands more food. I’m sorely tempted to ignore her; but in the end, I send her some, but not the extravagant buffet of the previous day. She doesn’t seem pleased with the selection and lets me know her displeasure with a few choice words. 

“I wish Cato would kill her already,” Finnick says, groaning. “Seriously, doesn‘t he realize that he‘s just torturing us?”

“Are we talking about Misu?” Johanna asks as she appears in the doorway. “I was so hoping to hear about her death when I woke up.”

“Sadly, Cato seems determined to finish off Peeta before he’ll even think about getting rid of Misu,” I say. “I don’t know why, though, as I would think her attitude would be reason enough to kill her as soon as possible.”

“She must be a hell of a kisser,” Finnick says and both Johanna and I glare at him. “What? I’m just saying that’s probably the reason why he’s keeping her alive. Well, that and the promise of the tumble before her kills her.”

“Do you think that the Gamemakers would air that uncensored?” I ask, oddly curious about that. 

“What do you think?” Johanna asks, rolling her eyes at me.

I make a face thinking of being forced to watch Cato and Misu in a delicate position. “I think that’s disgusting.”

“That’s because you’ve never done it,” Finnick says. “I promise you that with the right partner it can be quite beautiful.”

Johanna smirks. “But a little disgusting is fun, too.”

I feel my cheeks burn. “I don’t want to hear this.”

“I can’t believe anyone actually believes those rumors about you,” Finnick says, shaking his head. “I actually feel sorry for Peeta and the life of celibacy that he’s condemned himself to by dating you.”

“Shut up.”

“You know, Squirrel,” Johanna begins, smirking at me. “If you want, I can take him off your hands for a few days every month to make it easier on you and your delicate sensibilities.”

I know that she’s just teasing me but I can’t help the angry stare I throw in her direction. “I don’t think that will be necessary.”

Finnick and Johanna share an amused look. “All right, all right. But just remember that the offer’s on the table if you ever change your mind,” she tells me.

“I won’t change my mind,” I promise. “Now can we talk about something, anything, else?”

The conversation winds down pretty quickly after that and by the time that Haymitch enters the room, all talking had stopped completely.

“How’s the tributes?” Haymitch asks.

“Misu and Cato are walking around, searching for Peeta,” I tell him. “And Peeta’s still in his cave, fast asleep.”

Haymitch looks surprised. “Still?”

“He was probably exhausted,” Finnick reasons. “It’s been days since he’s slept, hasn’t it?”

I nod, thinking about it. “Yeah. The last time I remember him sleeping was the night before Foxface died.”

“And that’s not even taking into account his emotional and mental fatigue over the death of the little girl,” Johanna says. 

At the reminder of Rue’s end, we all go quiet again. The mood is heavy in the mentoring station and there’s no denying that we’re all anxious for Peeta to wake up and start making his way back to the Cornucopia.

It is nearly lunchtime by the time Peeta awakens. He has no expression on his face and his actions seem almost mechanical. He eats most of food that I sent him yesterday before he starts putting several bottles of water and some food into the pack that he got at the feast yesterday. 

“Why isn’t he packing the sleeping bag?” Johanna asks. “And the rest of the food and stuff?”

“Because he believes that, one way or another, he’s not going to be in the arena for much longer,” Finnick explains, looking grim. “I can’t help but think that he’s probably right about that.”

I watch him close up the pack and then start taking off his jacket. When he starts taking off his shirt, I look away. “Can someone explain to me why he’s stripping right now?” I ask, blushing furiously.

“Are you really not going to look?” Johanna asks, the amusement evident in her voice. “You’re missing quite a show.”

“Jo! Enough teasing.”

“I’m not teasing you. I thought you’d be happy to hear that your boyfriend seems more than adequately equipped to satisfy you. Well, if you’d ever give him the chance to, I mean. Seriously, Katniss, if he becomes too much for you, I won’t mind if you send him my way.”

My computer starts pinging like mad and I glare at it. Seems like all of Panem is enjoying the show, I think bitterly.

“He’s putting on his armor,” Haymitch informs me. “It’s skin-tight, so it has to go under his clothes.”

“Oh.”

It takes him quite a while to get redressed and I refuse to look up until all three of my companions swear that all of his clothing is back on. And even then, I give it a few extra seconds, just in case. By the time that I look at the screen again, Peeta is already outside the cave and starting his trek back to the Cornucopia.

He doesn’t run back to the lake, but he’s not exactly walking, either. Peeta’s pace is definitely quicker than when he and Rue made their way to the feast. The sorrow is evident in his face, even with his mouth in a determined line. It looks as if he wants to end the Games as soon as possible.

The sun is beginning to set when he reaches the edge of the lake. I wonder if he even notices that the sky is that special shade of orange that he loves so much, but I doubt it. Peeta looks around him as he makes his way around the body of water to the clearing where the Cornucopia sits. But he shouldn’t be so worried, as Cato and Misu are still quite a ways away. They are heading back to the lake though, so the encounter will happen soon enough.

When Peeta reaches the clearing, he keeps walking until he reaches the horn. Once there, he leans against the warm metal and waits for the appearance of the remaining two tributes.

Meanwhile, Misu and Cato have stopped to rest. The boy from District 2 is griping about not having seen hide nor hair of Peeta since the smaller boy had outran him at the feast. Misu absently makes noises of agreement as she fiddles with something inside her pack. She pulls out the little vial and opens it, making sure to keep her back to Cato to hide her actions. I watch as she pours the entire contents of the container into something hidden inside her pack. When she’s done, she tosses the empty vial back into her pack and seems to close something.

“Did you hear what I said?” Cato asks her angrily.

“No, I must’ve missed it,” she tells him, turning around to look at him. “Are you thirsty?”

“Yes.”

“Here you go, then,” she says, handing him a bottle of water from her pack. He takes it from her and gulps the whole bottle down greedily before handing it back. She frowns at him. “I didn’t mean for you to finish it!”

He rolls his eyes. “You can refill it when we get back to the lake.”

“I guess,” she says. “I just hate when-”

“Shh…” he says, interrupting her.

She looks offended. “Did you just-”

“Shut up for a minute,” he demands, cutting her off again. “I’m trying to figure out what that sound is.”

She crosses her arms over her chest. “I don’t hear anything.”

“That’s because you won’t stop talking,” he mutters to himself, but Misu hears him anyway.

“Fine, I’ll quiet down,” she tells him.

And surprising everyone, she actually does; and in the silence I see her eyes widen, and it’s immediately apparent that she heard something, too. She begins closing her pack and pulling it back on.

“Please tell me that you heard that,” Cato says, looking at Misu.

“I heard it, and forgive me if I don’t want to stick around long enough to find out what it is,” she says before she takes off running.

Cato watches her for a second before he runs off after her. A few seconds later, a creature I can’t identify appears, sniffing at the spot where Cato had just stood. It is immediately joined by a large group of its brethren and they begin to make shrill barking sounds at each other. 

_No, please not again_ , I think. 

The gruesome image of Gale’s death at the hands of the mutts flashes through my head, and I have to dig my nails into my legs to keep from running out of the room. This is too much like it was last year; the boy being hunted by mutts so close to the end of the Games. I can’t help but feel like I was betrayed; Snow had told me that he wanted Peeta to win. But if Snow didn’t want him to die, then his Gamemakers wouldn’t have sent these abominations after Peeta

“What are those things?” Johanna asks when we are treated to a close up of one of the creatures.

“Muttations,” Haymitch says with certainty.

“I’ve never seen those before,” Finnick says, frowning. “They’re definitely unnerving to look at.”

He’s right about that. I can’t shake the feeling like there’s something I’m missing, but I can’t figure out what. But the idea of Peeta having a similar end as Gale prevents me from focusing too much on the creatures.

One of the mutts, a larger one with blond fur, waves the rest of its companions forward with its paw and the entire pack starts sprinting off in the direction that Misu and Cato took off in.

It doesn’t take long for Misu and Cato to make it back to the clearing at the speed that they are running. Unfortunately for the two of them, the muttations have managed to close the distance during that time. When Cato and Misu appear in his line of vision, Peeta stands up straight and takes out his knife. When he realizes that they are running from something and not at him, he moves his gaze back to the part of the forest they just came out of. 

When the first mutt makes its appearance, Peeta doesn’t hesitate to start climbing the Cornucopia. It’s actually not a bad move, since it’s obvious that outrunning them isn’t an option.

Peeta has made it all the way up to the top of the horn when Misu reaches the bottom of it. Even though I know that Cato’s much faster than Misu, he seems to be lagging almost fifteen feet behind her now. And for some reason, he seems to be slowing down with every step that he takes. But somehow he manages to get to Cornucopia and starts climbing it before the mutts are right on top of him.

Misu makes it to the top and collapses as she starts coughing. Peeta eyes her warily, and has his hand on the handle of his knife. It takes him a while, but eventually Cato joins both of my tributes at the top of the horn. He then drops to his stomach, lying down between Misu and Peeta.

At the bottom, though, are still more than fifteen mutts sniffing around the horn. They begin yipping at each other again, and it frightens me how obvious it is that they are communicating with each other.

“Can they climb it?” I ask.

Haymitch shakes his head. “I doubt it or they would’ve tried it already. Whatever those things are, they’re smart.”

I shudder at the thought of that and there’s another close up of one of the mutts. This time, it’s a tiny, scrappy thing; no doubt, the runt of the litter. I see its familiar dark brown eyes that look so remarkably human when I notice the collar it wears. On it, in woven straw, there’s an eleven. Recognition hits me with such force that I nearly fall out of my chair. The camera pans over the rest of them giving me a chance to identify a lot of them and I feel like I’m going to be sick.

“Katniss?” Haymitch says, noticing me. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s them,” I manage to get out.

“What’s them?” Johanna asks.

“The mutts,” I say. “The mutts are the dead tributes.”

Everyone else turns to the screen and by the gasps I know that they see the similarities, too. Bloody, brutal Johanna, who I consider to be one of the strongest people I know, gets up and races to the bathroom, not bothering to close the door. I can hear her getting sick and I’m afraid that I might join her.

“Unbelievable,” Finnick says and Haymitch swears under his breath. “This is a new low, even for them.”

“Do you think that they put their brains in there, too, or just their eyes?” I ask the question I definitely didn’t want to know the answer to.

“Let’s not think about that right now,” Haymitch says, and by the way his jaw tightens I know that it is going to be a long time before he has another sober day. At the moment, I am seriously considering joining him.

Thankfully, none of the three survivors have made the connection between the muttations and their fellow dead tributes. Misu sits up, her coughing having lessened considerably; but Cato still seems to have trouble trying to catch his breath.

Even so, Cato pulls out his sword and weakly brandishes it in Peeta’s direction. “Imma kill you. You’re dead.”

Misu stands carefully and lets out a laugh. “Oh, Cato. You’re not going to be the one to kill him: I am.”

“What… you… talkin… bout?” Cato asks, and it seems like he’s having trouble speaking now, too.

Suddenly, he begins throwing up. But it’s not food, it’s blood. And what’s worse is that it doesn’t seem like it’s going to stop. I feel myself getting dizzy at the sight of all that blood.

Misu, however, seems unbothered by it. In fact, she seems pretty pleased with the whole situation. She squats down near him, “You see, you’re not going to be alive for very much longer, Cato.”

“Misu…” Peeta says, raising his knife towards her. “What did you do?”

The mutts seem to quiet down suddenly as if they’re straining to hear her explanation, too.

The girl ignores the question and keeps talking to Cato. “Didn’t you even wonder what the pack I got at the feast contained? Of course you didn’t, because it didn’t involve you. But you should’ve cared, Cato, because I received a vial of poison; poison that I dumped into that bottle of water I gave you earlier.”

Cato stares up accusingly at her as he continues to forcibly expel blood from his mouth. The amount of liquid has decreased and the boy from District 2 seems to be losing the last of his strength.

“You know, you probably would’ve survived the attack if you hadn’t been so characteristically greedy and drank the whole bottle,” she tells Cato, taunting the boy as he loses consciousness. “Oh, and about that tumble you were going to give me before you killed me? Here you go!”

And with all of her strength, she rolls Cato off of the Cornucopia and his body drops down to the ground with a sickening noise. The mutts, which had moved away from the horn to avoid having Cato land on them, come back sniffing at the body. They bark at each other for a minute, and as a group move away from it.

“Why are they avoiding it?” I ask.

“They can probably smell the poison on him,” Finnick says and that thought disturbs me greatly. 

Cato’s cannon finally fires and Misu stands up, turning to face Peeta. 

“It’s just me and you now,” she tells him.

“I know.”

“Did you know that I’m the one who killed Rue?”

His eyes narrow at her. “Yeah, she told me before she died.”

“I’m glad,” she says, smirking at him. “Are you mad at me for killing her, or are you relieved that I did it so you didn’t have to?”

He turns away from her, refusing to even acknowledge her question.

“I don’t even know why I bothered asking,” she continues in her taunting tone. “I know that you wouldn’t have been able to kill her. Hell, I am willing to bet that you can’t even kill me.”

“Is that what you want?” Peeta asks her. “Do you want me to kill you?”

“No,” she says. “The truth of the matter is that I want you to die and I want her to watch every single second of it.”

And with that she jumps at him, her knife in her hand. She brings the weapon down at his chest but it doesn’t penetrate the armor. 

Misu looks confused. “What the hell?”

Peeta takes advantage of this and pushes her away from him. She stumbles backwards and slips on the large puddle of blood that Cato vomited up. Misu nearly falls off the horn but manages to catch the edge of it at the last second.

She shrieks in terror and Peeta looks as if he’s still trying to process what happened. I don’t blame him because I’m in the same boat.

“Peeta!” Misu screams. “Help me! Please!”

“She can’t be serious,” I say. “She’s actually asking him to help her after she tried to kill him?”

“Please!” Misu begs again. “My hand is slipping and I don’t know how much longer I can hold on.”

Then there’s a quick shot of Peeta and it is obvious by the look on his face that he’s actually considering helping her.

“Don’t you dare!” I scream at him, even though I know that he can’t hear me. “Let her fall, Peeta!”

But he can’t, because then he wouldn’t be my Peeta. He makes his way to her, being careful not to slip in the blood himself. He’s about to take her hand when the biggest mutt, who I can only imagine must be Thresh, jumps up and closes his powerful jaw around Misu’s leg and pulls her down off of the horn with it.

She screams all the way down and Peeta immediately backs away from the edge of the horn. Misu hits the ground and she’s viciously pounced on by all the mutts, hiding her from view. I am thankful for that because I can only imagine how horrible the image of the mutts tearing the flesh from Misu’s body must be. It’s bad enough that I can hear her screams. 

It seems like she screams forever and I’m almost convinced the sound will drive me insane when she suddenly goes quiet. And then the cannon sounds and all the mutts scamper away from all that remains of my girl tribute and into a hole that suddenly opens up in the middle of the plain. 

There’s a quick close up on the mutilated mess that is Misu and I have to force myself not to run into the bathroom. Then it’s showing Peeta sitting at the top of the Cornucopia with his face in his hands.

The trumpets sound and in a booming voice Claudius Templesmith announces, “Ladies and Gentlemen, I am pleased to present the victor of the Seventy-forth Hunger Games, Peeta Mellark of District 12!”


	21. The Boy who Won

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snow gives Katniss a difficult choice.

The arena fills with cheers as the speakers begin to play the reactions of the Capitol crowds who were watching. Peeta lifts his head at the sound and there’s an obvious look of wariness on his face. I can understand that, as I know I won’t be able to fully relax until he’s out of the arena. A hovercraft appears and lowers a ladder down to Peeta. He takes one last, long look at the area around him before he takes ahold of it and steps onto the lowest rung.

The camera holds on Peeta until the ladder raises him up into the hovercraft and he disappears from view. Then it fades to black and the seal of Panem fill the screens, and that’s when I know that the Hunger Games are finally over.

“He won,” I whisper, and I’m not entirely sure if I’m saying it to my companions or if I’m saying it to myself.

Haymitch nods. “Yeah, he did.”

I’m having trouble convincing myself that he’s safe, though. Most probably because I know that he really isn’t; I haven’t forgotten what Snow told me. I still don’t know what his plan for Peeta is, but it’s not difficult to surmise that I won’t find it even remotely pleasant.

I am obviously not the only one who feels that way, as the joy over Peeta’s winning is overshadowed by the uneasiness of not knowing what’s going to happen next to the newest Victor.

A little while later, Effie bursts in the door with a cheery, “What a great, great, great day! Our Peeta won! Isn’t that magnificent? I knew he had a chance when I saw how easily he overcame all of his disadvantages; talking to him, one wouldn’t have known that he came from District 12!”

Haymitch and I exchange a look but Finnick saves us from having to pretend to be nice by saying, “How lovely to see you again, Ms. Trinket.”

Effie turns red, and I try not to laugh at her obvious crush on Finnick. “Hello, Mr. Odair. You are looking well.”

“You are too kind,” he says, running a hand through his bronze hair. “I am sure I must look all a fright.”

The escort of District 12 giggles and I can’t help but roll my eyes. “I know you must be awfully busy coordinating appearances and events now that Peeta’s won,” I say as pleasantly as I can manage. “And it would be so selfish of us to take up anymore of your time.”

“Oh, yes, of course,” she says, seemingly brought back to reality. “Actually I was stopping by for a reason: since Peeta managed make it out of the arena with the bare minimum of injuries, his hospital stay is estimated to be a short one. It’ll probably be only a couple of days to give him the full-body polish and make sure that well-fed and rehydrated.”

“It’s only a full body polish?” I ask, making sure. “There will be no enhancements, correct?”

Johanna smirks at me. “Oh, Katniss, you shouldn’t worry so much. After Peeta’s little strip show earlier, you’re not the only one who knows that Peeta is more than adequate the way he is.”

“As it so happens,” Effie says as she looks down at the little portable computer in her hands to hide her blush. “President Snow has given strict instructions to keep Peeta just the way he is.”

“Oh, that’s…good,” I say, but I can’t say that I really feel as pleased about that as Effie expects me to be. “So when will I be able to see him? As soon as he gets to the hospital, I hope?”

“Actually, another one of Snow’s directives is that you should stay away from Peeta until your reunion can be captured on television,” Effie says, and I hate her a little less for the sympathetic look she gives me. “The crowning ceremony is tentatively scheduled for three days from now, so at least you won’t have to wait for too long. After all, what is three little days after the ten that he spent in the arena?”

It would be 13 days; almost two whole weeks since I have felt his arms around me and his lips on mine. It almost doesn’t sound correct as it feels like he’s been gone for so much longer than that. 

“Was there anything else, Effie?” Haymitch asks her when I don’t make an attempt to speak again.

“We will have to schedule the farewell segment for Misu,” Effie says, looking at me. “I was thinking we could do it tomorrow afternoon?”

I barely manage to cover up my groan with a cough. I hate the farewell segments as I see them as only another way to rub salt into the wound. Whenever a tribute dies in the arena, one of the mentors from his or her district is expected to say a few words about how wonderful the tribute was and give a little anecdote about the dead child. Then the mentor offers their condolences to the family and the entire district before ending the segment with a Capitol scripted line about how maybe next year the odds will be in their favor.

And it all feels so pointless. Because, for the most part, the farewell segments are aired during the middle of the night when no one is watching. And of course, it is mandatory for the people of the affected district to watch it, no matter what time it is on television. The only lucky ones that get a decent airtime are the final five and any other tribute who was popular enough with the Capitol citizens.

“Tomorrow afternoon will be fine for me,” Haymitch says.

Effie looks surprised. Ever since I had started mentoring, the farewell interviews had been my job. Even last year, despite my overwhelming grief, I had handled the interview after Gale’s death. 

“Oh, I thought that Katniss would-” Effie starts, looking nervous and unsure of what to say about that.

“Katniss has her hands full with pining for her boy,” he tells her, and I ignore his exact words long enough to shoot him a grateful look. I’m not sure I would be able to put aside my dislike for Misu to give her the proper send-off. Especially, since I didn’t really think she deserved one.

“Of course,” Effie says, giving me a nervous glance over her shoulder. I knew that she was going to get grief for bringing Haymitch to the taping instead of me, but I didn’t have it in me to feel bad about that. I knew that she wouldn’t get into too much trouble as Effie was as blindly obedient to the Capitol as they came. Besides, if they got rid of Effie, they would have to go through the trouble of finding another escort to work District 12. 

Just then, the door opens again and in comes a large Peacekeeper. I feel my fellow Victors tense up all around me, but I know that they shouldn’t be worried, as there was only one person for whom this visit could be for.

“Miss Everdeen?”

I sigh. “Yes?”

“President Snow has requested your presence,” the Peacekeeper informs me. “Immediately.”

Effie gasps, but she’s the only one in the room surprised by the demand. I nod my head; I had been expecting the invitation to see him from the second that Peeta disappeared into the hovercraft.

“Of course,” I say, getting up to follow the Peacekeeper.

But the uniformed official doesn’t start. “I would like to inform you, Mr. Abernathy, that there is no need for you to wait for Miss Everdeen to start heading back to the training center. I’m sure Mr. Odair, Miss Mason, and Ms. Trinket will be more than enough to make up for her loss of company.”

And with that, the Peacekeeper heads out of the room with such long quick strides that I have to jog to keep pace with him. I don’t know why Snow commanded everyone else to leave the Games Headquarters without me and I don’t like it. The uneasiness in my stomach grows when I realize that the man isn’t leading me to the presidential suite. My anxiety hits its peak when I realize that I’m down in the garage. I have never been down here before as mentors were always dropped off right in front of the doors leading into the building.

The Peacekeeper leads me to a large black car with windows so dark that I can’t see who is inside. The man opens the door for me and gestures for me to get into the vehicle. I enter the blood and rose scented car and suddenly find myself sitting across from President Snow.

His thick lips curl into a smile as I feel the vehicle start up and begin to move. “Miss Everdeen, how good of you to join me.”

“How could I ever deny you such a request?” I ask him, trying to keep my voice as even as possible.

“So, I must offer my congratulations on your boyfriend’s victory,” he tells me. “You must be very happy.”

“I am.”

“Are you sure you are?” Snow asks me. “Because I have to admit that I am not exactly convinced about that.”

“You must believe me,” I tell him quickly, afraid that . “I am very happy that Peeta’s out of the arena; I just would be happier if I didn’t have to wait so long before getting to see him again.”

“Oh yes,” he says. “I can see why you wouldn’t be thrilled with that. But you must understand that the Capitol citizens have become quite obsessed with your love story. As you can imagine, they would be most upset if they didn’t get to see the lovers’ reunion live on television.”

“I don’t understand why it would make any difference to them if it was the first or hundredth time we saw each other after he came back from the arena,” I say, because I really don’t comprehend the logic behind it.

Snow lets out a chuckle and I don’t know what I’ve said that has amused him so, because I find none of it even remotely funny. “The citizens are quite invested in the love you two have for each other and many of them feel entitled to witness as many of your first times as a couple as possible.”

I feel my stomach twist at his words, afraid of what he means by that. “I am not sure I agree with that.”

He ignores my comment and continues, “You should be happy to learn that I have finally managed to convince a large number of my powerful friends that you and Peeta did not have sex that night before he went into the arena.”

“Does that mean that the auction is back on?” I ask him and I’m almost sure that I’m going to be sick.

“It does not,” he tells me. “But it does mean that I have a way to make exponentially more money than I would have with your auction.”

I don’t know what to think. I am so nervous about his plan that I can’t even be pleased that I’m not going to have my virginity sold to some disgusting human muttation from the Capitol.

“Aren’t you going to ask me how I plan to get so much money?” Snow asks me, thoroughly enjoying this conversation. The truth of the matter is that I really would rather not know, but it is better for me to play along.

“How?” I ask, the one word being all I can get out.

“I am going to film you losing your virginity to Mr. Mellark,” he tells me. “And then I will allow those with enough funds to buy the rights to view it.”

Snow hands me a large bag and I promptly expel the little food I had in my stomach into it. With tears in my eyes from the exertion, I look up at him. “Please, tell me you aren’t serious.”

“Are you upset that I’m allowing you to express your affection for the boy you love?” Snow asks. “I would have expected more gratitude than this from you. Perhaps you would prefer if I sold the two of you separately?”

“No!”

“I thought not,” he says, nodding your head. “You never did seem overly fond of the idea. But then, are you saying that you think I am asking too much of you after all the generosity I showed Mr. Mellark in the arena?”

“I didn’t say that; your donation to Peeta’s sponsorship account was greatly appreciated,” I begin.

“Oh my dear Miss Everdeen,” he says with a smug look on his face. “Money was but a small part of the total actions I did on your tribute’s behalf. Did you not think it strange how easy Mr. Mellark had it in the arena? I know that you can be slightly obtuse at times, but surely even you must have wondered why the boy was given something so imbalanced as the armor, am I right?”

“I had suspected that you might have had a hand in the decision to send that to Peeta,” I say, wishing that my assumptions had been incorrect.

“And you did see that special similarity between this year’s and last year’s games that the Gamemakers included at the end there?”

“If you are talking about the mutts, then yes,” I tell him through gritted teeth. “I definitely saw it.”

“It wasn’t exactly like the situation with Mr. Hawthorne, of course,” he tells me. “Mr. Mellark was never really in any danger when it came to the creatures, of course. They were programmed to completely ignore him.”

I don’t know what to say so I don’t say anything at all.

“Miss Everdeen, let me explain this to you,” he says, his eyes boring into mine. “Mr. Mellark had an easy time in the arena directly because of my conversation with Mr. Crane in which I made it clear that I wanted the boy to be the victor.”

I swallow hard and I nod to show that I understand him.

“Are you not going to thank me for doing my best to keep Mr. Mellark unharmed?” Snow asks me.

“Th-thank you,” I croak.

“The only way I wish to be thanked is by you agreeing to play by my rules,” he tells me. “From the minute that you and Mr, Mellark reunite at the crowning ceremony, I want you to act like you can not bear the idea of being apart from him. I want no one to be able to doubt your affections for the boy.”

“I can do that,” I say.

“My other expectation is that after the final interview with Mr. Flickerman, you take Mr. Mellark to your room and consummate your relationship.”

My eyes widen. “But that’s so soon!”

“It is, but it has to be done before you leave the Capitol,” he tells me. “You do understand that, I hope.”

“What if he doesn’t want to?” 

Snow laughs. “Mr. Mellark is a teenaged boy. I sincerely doubt that he would turn down such an offer from the girl that he’s loved since he was five.”

My mind continues searching for a reason, any reason, to get him to postpone Peeta’s and my first time. “But we won’t have time after the final interview! I mean, aren’t we scheduled to go back to District 12 immediately after it ends?”

“Not immediately,” he tells me.

“No, of course, not immediately,” I say, panicked. “I guess we would have a few minutes to collect our things from our rooms, but surely you don’t think that’s enough time!”

“I do not,” he says. “However, your departure has been moved back until the following day to make sure the two of you have plenty of time to fulfill my request. Of course, if you are still not comfortable with the idea of being with the boy you love, you can always choose to give your virginity to Mr. Torrklin while Mr. Mellark is tasked to satisfy whoever it is that wins _his_ auction. ”

I blanch. I have no way out. I have to make a decision between two unpleasant options. I know that it shouldn’t be so hard to choose because I love Peeta and I would rather be with him than with anyone else. But still, the thought of sharing something so private with sleazy Capitol citizens makes me furious. And I can’t forget about Peeta’s feelings in all of this. I know he wouldn’t like knowing that our first time is being filmed and sold, but I think he’d might prefer it to the alternative.

Oh, how I wish Finnick was here so I could ask his advice.

“Miss Everdeen… your decision, please.” Snow looks at me expectantly, his hands crossed over his knees.

“I don’t want Peeta to know,” I tell him.

“And what is it that you don’t wish him to know, exactly?”

“Anything,” I say. “I don’t want him to know what was the other alternative, or that I was the one who chose this… and most importantly, I don’t want him to know that we are being filmed.”

“I understand why you would want to protect him from the knowledge,” he tells me. “And I promise you that Mr. Mellark will be left completely in the dark about the situation. But judging from what you asked, does that mean that you are agreeing to fulfill my request, then?” 

“Yes.”

“I want to hear exactly what you are agreeing to, Miss Everdeen,” he tells me. “Just to make sure that you and I are on the same page.”

“After Peeta’s final interview, I will take him to my room and I will seduce him,” I indulge him. “Was that what you wanted to hear?”

“Yes, very much so.”

We sit in silence for a while and the overpowering stench and the heavy knowledge of what I have agreed do to overwhelm me and I feel the urgent need to break the silence as quickly as possible.

“Those weren’t the …” I can’t manage to ask the question.

“The actual bodies of the tributes were untouched when the muttations were created,” he tells me. “However we did use some genetic material that we had collected from the tributes prior to them entering the arena.”

“What does that mean?”

“It is not at all necessary for you to worry about that right now,” he tells me and my skin shudders with the implication. “Just know that I was pleased with the result and that I have no doubt that a special little project, which I have all my top minds working on, will be a complete success.”

“What kind of project?” I ask.

“Oh, Miss Everdeen; you know I cannot tell you that,” he says, smiling. “That would ruin the surprise; and I know how much you love surprises.”

The car stops and a few seconds later the door opens and I can see that we are parked in front of the Training Center. I get the feeling that I’m supposed to leave now and I start exiting the vehicle.

“Goodbye, Miss Everdeen,” Snow calls when I’m completely out. “I shall be looking forward to your performance.”

I nod mutely at him, as I have nothing else to say. And then I watch a different Peacekeeper than the one from earlier close the door to the vehicle. I don’t dare move until I see the car drive off and then I immediately turn on my heel and run into the Training Center. I don’t even slow until I reach the elevators. I somehow manage to keep all my emotions in check all the way back to my room on the 12th floor; but the second that I close the door behind me, I break down. I throw myself on the bed and let just everything out. And I don’t fight the exhaustion that hits me hours into my breakdown and I drift off into nothingness.

\---------

Hours later, I awaken to a knock at the door.

“Hey, Katniss,” Johanna calls from the other side. “Are you in there?”

“Yeah,” I tell her, going to wipe the remaining wetness from my face and finding that most of my tears had dried hours previous. “Come on in.”

She steps in and sits on the bed. Her fingers tug nervously at her shirt. “I don’t even know why I came here. We both know I’m no good at this stuff. But Haymitch is dealing with your boyfriend and Finnick… well, he’s busy.”

I nod to show that I understand what she meant by that. My heart goes out to Finnick. Now that the games were over, he would spend the next few days entertaining those with enough money to buy his company.

“You said that Haymitch is dealing with Peeta?” I ask, preferring to dwell on that topic. “Is there anything wrong?”

She shakes her head with a smile. “Nothing that a couple of days of sleep, food, and water won’t fix. However, the boy is desperate to see you.”

I can’t help the blush on my cheeks. “Really?”

“Last I heard he had to be sedated because he tried to leave the room to go looking for you,” she tells me. “Haymitch has been tasked to explain the situation to Peeta upon his waking.”

“But other than that, he’s okay?” I ask.

“I haven’t personally seen him,” she says, shrugging. “But I have no reason to think otherwise.”

We are quiet for a moment and I can tell that she has something on her mind. There’s only one thing that it could be. “You’re dying to know what happened between Snow and me, aren’t you?” I ask her.

“Am I that transparent?” Johanna asks in response. “I guess my acting has gotten as bad as yours if I’m so easy to read.”

“Snow wants me to…” I stop not knowing how exactly to word it. “He wants Peeta and me to…”

“Have sex?” Johanna offers.

“Yes…” I say, slowly. “With each other.”

“Well, that’s creepy and weird, but in the grand scheme of things…” she starts telling me.

“Snow’s going to have the… encounter filmed and distributed to those with enough money to afford it.”

“He actually said that to you?” Johanna asks and I nod. She makes a face. “Okay, we moved past creepy and weird into vile and disturbing territory. So what did you say when he told you that’s what he wanted?”

“Well, after he made it clear that the only alternative was for Peeta and I to be sold separately, I agreed to it.”

She looks surprised at that. “You agreed to do it?”

“I didn’t have a choice,” I argue.

“I guess not,” she says. “Although I never thought you’d agree to something like this without a fight.”

“It would’ve just been worse for me in the long run,” I remind her. “And who knows who would have been hurt in Snow’s retaliation.”

“It isn’t easy having people you love,” she tells me, a painful memory darkening her features. I wonder which of the many people the Capitol took from her is she thinking about. I take her hand and squeeze as a reminder that she still does have people left that care about her. She rolls her eyes at that, fighting a smile. “I wonder how much Snow will charge for it and if Finnick and I can get one if we pooled some of our excess riches for it.”

The only thing I can do is glare at her as she laughs.

\---------

The following days were agony for me. Knowing that Peeta is so close but still not being allowed to see him, is driving me insane. It became worse for me when most of the other mentors were sent home, leaving just a small number us in the Capitol. Only those Victors with “entertaining appointments” were allowed to stay, as well as the mentors from the winning district. Johanna’s departure had left me in a melancholy state that Haymitch described as insufferable.

The only highlights were whenever Finnick was free and he’d come to visit me. The time we spent together wasn’t frequent, and it certainly wasn’t lengthy, but it was better than nothing. 

I keep expecting him to bring up the conversation we had that night before the mutt attack, but he doesn’t. Dropping hints doesn’t seem to work either, as it seems to just fly over his head.

Finally I’ve had quite enough of waiting. “Finnick, are you ever going to tell me what you meant?”

He looks startled at my outburst, before a smile creeps on his face. “I might, if I had any idea of what you’re referring to...”

“Do you remember the night before the Games ended? You and I were talking about the incident with Annie and then you said that Peeta was more special that even I gave him credit for,” I remind him.

“I remember,” he tells me. “Your point?”

“You said you would explain that comment to me.”

He raises an eyebrow. “I am somewhat disappointed that you didn’t figure it out yourself.”

“How would I be able to do that?” I ask him. “Your mind tends to work in a very odd way.”

Finnick laughs. “Perhaps, but didn’t you notice something about Peeta’s time in the arena? Something that sets him apart from every other Victor?”

I think hard on it and that’s when it hits me. I cup my hands over my mouth. “He didn’t have a single kill, did he?”

Finnick shakes his head. “Not a one. I was wondering about the girl from District 5, you know the one who died from eating the berries? But no, the Gamemakers ruled her death a suicide.”

“Winning the Games without killing anyone was a big deal.”

Finnick nods. “It is, but the Capitol is trying not to call attention to it. Problem is, that people already saw the Kill Count and saw that he wasn’t even on the list. And wouldn’t you know it, everyone is going absolutely crazy over it,” Finnick informs me. “Peeta Mellark: Lover not Fighter.”

I roll my eyes at the overly dramatic ideas of the Capitol citizens. “Tell me the truth, should I be worried about this?”

“Truthfully?” He chews his lip while he thinks. “I would say no as long as you and your boyfriend don’t piss Snow off.”

“You know how hard I’m trying to keep him on my good side,” I tell Finnick, thinking again about the difficult decision I had made to allow Snow to film and sell Peeta’s and my first time together. 

Finnick nods. “I know.”

He had left not long after that, having to rush off to spend time with a “lady friend.” I had spent the rest of that night alternating between being impressed with Peeta managing to not kill anyone and being worried about all the repercussions that could possibly stem from that.

The following afternoon, which was the third day after Peeta left the arena, I am making my way from the dining area after having some lunch by myself, when I see a familiar face that I haven’t seen in too long.

“Cinna!” I cry, running down the hallway towards him.

He grins as he pulls me into his arms and gives me a warm hug. “Well, hello to you, too.”

“Have you seen him?” I ask.

His green eyes twinkle with amusement “Who?”

I elbow him in the stomach in response to him trying to be funny. “You know who. Peeta! Have you seen him?”

“I have not,” Cinna tells me, rubbing at his abs. “But I have been very busy these last few days, you know.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” I tell him. “It’s just that I’m going crazy just sitting around and waiting.”

“Well, then you should be happy to hear that the crowning ceremony is tonight,” he tells me.

A smile spreads across my face; I’m going to be seeing him tonight! “So I take it you’re here to get me ready, then?”

He nods and he hugs me again, lowering his mouth so that it’s near my ear. “Katniss, there’s something you should know: President Snow commissioned a special outfit for you to wear tomorrow.”

“So? That wouldn’t be the first time he had a hand in what dress I wore.” I can’t believe Cinna forgot all about the cleavage bursting dresses I had been stuffed into the past few weeks.

“It is the first time that he was concerned about what you would be wearing underneath your dress,” he whispers.

I stiffen. “Oh.”

He studies my face for a minute. “I can tell by the fact that you don’t look surprised that you knew about this?”

“I didn’t know that Snow was going to be designing my under things,” I say, shuddering in disgust. “But I guess I did know that there was a reason why he would have been interested in them.”

Cinna frowns at me, a pitying expression on his face. “I am so sorry. I had thought that the auction had been canceled.”

“It has been,” I tell him. I debate whether to tell him the whole story about what happened with Snow. I decide that now would not be the best time to disclose everything and instead say, “I’m positive that the President just wants to make sure that I look special for Peeta, is all.”

A look of recognition crosses Cinna’s face and he nods. I’m not sure how much he understands, but it’s enough that he still feels sorry for me. “Well, then let’s make sure you look your best when you see him tonight!”

He takes my hand and leads me back to my room where my prep team is waiting for me. Cinna and I share a look as the three of them babble on about how happy they are for me now that Peeta is back. They can be a little overwhelming at times, but their joy for me is genuine and even I can’t help but appreciate them for that.

It takes a few hours for them to finish my hair and makeup and Cinna brings out a simple yellow dress for me. He helps me slip it on and then Venia assists me as I step into the matching shoes. 

The dress doesn’t show off as much of my bust as most of the outfits I’ve been wearing lately, and I’m grateful. This is purely Cinna’s work and I can see the elegance in the design. The sheer fabric seems to give off the impression that it’s made out of pure, soft light.

“He’s going to love you in this,” Flavius says.

“He’s going to love her even more out of it,” Octavia giggles.

“Hold on... Don’t forget the finishing touch,” Venia says, handing something dark to Cinna.

He meets my eyes in the mirror and helps me into Peeta’s jacket. “We thought you might want to give it back to him.”

I blush as I nod. “Thank you.”

My prep team says their goodbyes as Cinna walks me to the elevators. “You do look lovely,” he says.

“Only because of you and your amazing talent,” I tell him.

“If only I could take all the credit,” he says. Then he drops his head so the two of us are at eye-level. “Are you okay?”

I know what he’s asking me. It is so sweet that he’s so worried about what is going to happen tomorrow. I give him a kiss on the cheek and give him a reassuring smile. “I’m okay; just nervous. I wish that you were coming to the ceremony with me. I mean, I know you’re going to be there but-”

“I know what you mean,” he tells me. “But don’t worry, you and I will see each other tomorrow.”

I nod. Of course, Snow would have Cinna help me get ready. I needed to look my best for the cameras. 

The metal doors open and he gently pushes me into the elevator. “Go. All of Panem is waiting for your reunion.”


	22. The Boy and his Girl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peeta and Katniss reunite.

I step off the elevator at the training floor, where the ceremony will be taking place. I am the first to arrive, which displeases me. I have had quite enough of being alone these past few days. The roar of the crowd above my head makes me jumpy and uncomfortable, and I truly wish that Cinna had come down here with me.

Luckily, it doesn’t take long for Haymitch and Effie to join me.

Effie envelops me in a large hug. She’s so giddy that I can’t help but feel myself affected by her good mood. “Aren’t you so, so, so excited! There’s only a few more minutes before you get to be with him!”

I nod. “I can’t wait.”

“Now, with the addition of Katniss’ entrance, things are going to go a little differently,” she says, suddenly switching over to professional mode. “Not for you, Haymitch. As usual, you’ll go on right after Portia.”

He scowls in annoyance and tries to fix his tie that has already gotten crooked. Because Peeta was a male tribute, Haymitch is being celebrated as his primary mentor. Since I am officially the female tribute’s mentor, I am not being given any credit for Peeta’s win in the arena. The truth of the matter is that if it wasn’t for my “relationship” with Peeta, I would’ve had no part in the ceremony. 

Effie turns to me just as a large female Peacekeeper walks up to us. “Katniss, you’re not going to come up until a little later. Peeta’s going to be introduced and there’s going to be a little back and forth between him and Caesar; and then, you’ll be announced. Did you get all that?”

The female Peacekeeper clears her throat and then says, “If you would then follow me, Miss Everdeen…”

“Wait,” I say. “Follow you where?”

She points to a makeshift wall several yards away. “We are just going to stand behind that.”

“Why?” I ask.

“Because they don’t want you to see the boy before the televised reunion,” Haymitch tells me. “No doubt that’s where you’ll make your entrance from.”

“Okay,” I say, understanding it now. I look at the Peacekeeper, whose dislike for me is almost palpable. “I take it that your job is to make sure that I keep myself behind that wall?”

She nods. “That is correct.”

“Lead the way,” I say, knowing the futility of arguing.

A few minutes after the Peacekeeper leads me to my metal plate, I can hear a small bit of commotion coming from behind the wall. The audience is too loud for me to be able to distinguish exactly what is going on, but I am fairly certain that Peeta’s just made his way out of the elevator.

And I wait for the show to begin. Finally, after what feels like hours, I can hear the anthem reverberate all around me. Caesar Flickerman starts warming up the crowd, getting them ready before he begins the presentations of the winning team of the 74th Hunger Games.

I hear the applause increase with ever introduction: the first spike is for his prep team, who are followed closely by Effie, the crowd goes nuts for Portia, and a small chant proceeds Haymitch’s appearance.

Caesar waits for the crowd to settle down before saying, “And now, the moment I know we’ve all been waiting for… the Victor of the 74th Hunger Games, and my personal friend… PEETA MELLARK!”

The cheer from the raucous crowd is so loud that it hurts my ears. Full minutes go by and the crowd still hasn’t calmed down. I believe that Caesar tries to talk a couple of times, but it is hard to hear over the audience. When the volume of the crowd finally decreases, I can hear Peeta chuckling.

My heart begins pounding. He’s so close to me right now and I’m going to see him again in any second. Caesar and him start making inane chit-chat and jokes and I want to scream for them to get on with it!

“Peeta, I hope you don’t mind me saying so, but you look awfully distracted tonight,” Caesar says. “Is everything all right?”

“Yeah,” Peeta replies and I can hear the embarrassment in his voice. I wonder if he’s blushing and if his ears have turned red and I wish even more that I could see him. “I was just told that someone would be here.”

“You wouldn’t be talking about your other mentor, by any chance?” Caesar laughs loudly and the crowd cheers.

“Katniss, yes.”

“I do think we’ve tortured him long enough, don’t you think?” Caesar asks and the crowd shouts back in agreement. I can’t help but nod myself. “Miss Katniss Everdeen, come on out and greet your boyfriend!”

The plate begins to rise and I’m momentarily blinded by all the lights. I feel a little disorientated and suddenly I’m lifted off my feet and being kissed oh-so-passionately. I close my eyes and wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him back, just so happy to have him back in my arms.

The longer we kiss, the more my mind goes blank; it gives me a peace of mind that I haven’t had in a long time. I don’t want this moment to ever end but I am vaguely aware of Caesar trying to talk to us. I can feel Peeta trying to wave him off without his lips ever leaving mine.

I feel a strong hand clap Peeta on the back with so much force that it nearly knocks us both over. Haymitch‘s voice booms from behind Peeta, “All right! Give each other some space to breathe.”

Peeta pulls away from me, looking sheepish; but I grab his hand and pull myself to his side. He grins down at me and wraps an arm around my shoulders. “You’re wearing my jacket.”

“I’ve had it longer now that you did,” I tell him, grinning back at him. “I think that means that it’s my jacket, now. But if you want it, you’re more than welcome to try to take it back.”

The crowd reacts wildly and that’s when I realize that they must have heard our exchanged. Will we never have any privacy between the two of us? Then I remember what is to happen the following day and know that the answer to that question is a resounding no.

Peeta leads me to the ornate chair that the Victor typically sits in during the crowning ceremony. I wasn’t told where I’d be sitting for the show and I start searching for my seat when Peeta sits down and pulls me down to his lap. I can hear that the crowd is in an uproar over this and I can’t help but smile.

He leans his head close to mine, “I hope you don’t mind. I’ve missed you so much that I’m not ready to let you go just yet,” he tells me in a quiet voice. I don’t know why he even bothered whispering, because his words are picked up by the microphone and played through the speakers for everyone to hear.

“I don’t mind,” I say leaning my head against his shoulder. “I’m not quite ready to let you go, either.”

“Aren’t you two just the most darling sight I have ever seen?” Caesar grins at us as he takes the chair near us. “Katniss, I was going to show you to your seat, but I think you look quite comfortable where you are.”

“I am very comfortable,” I tell him. “Thank you.”

“Now, as I understand it,” Caesar says, leaning into us. “You two haven’t seen each other since the Games ended, is that correct?”

“Unfortunately, that is true,” Peeta says and the audience voices their pity for us. “I wasn’t allowed to see her because I was told that I needed my rest and that seeing Katniss would only stir me up.”

“Why do I get the feeling that you didn’t just accept it?”

Peeta grins mischievously and gives the audience a very slow and deliberate shrug. “There may have been a couple of times that I tried to escape my room in the hospital so I could try and find her.”

“I heard it was more than that,” I say, poking at him.

“Maybe it was,” he says.

“They had to sedate you!” I remind him, laughing.

“Only once,” he tells me, pulling me closer to him. “I just needed to see you again, is all.”

I turn and place a kiss on his lips. “I know.”

Caesar sighs. “You two are just too cute and I wish we could just spend all night talking about how much you love each other!”

But we can’t and I know this because it’s time for the show to start. The lights are lowered and the oversized screen hums to life as the seal of Panem flashes across it for a minute. I feel Peeta stiffen up from behind me and I know exactly how he feels. Being forced to relive the death of the 23 tributes you went into the arena with is not a pleasant experience. I take his hand and give it a quick squeeze before I start writing on the back of his hand with my finger.

I. A. M. H. E. R. E. F. O. R. Y. O. U.

He turns my hand and responds. T. H. A. N. K. Y. O. U.

The first thirty minutes is just scenes of the things that happened before the actual start of the Games. It is still difficult to watch knowing that most of the people onscreen aren’t alive anymore. They show snippets of the other district’s reaping, but the one from District 12 is given extra attention. Not surprisingly, since they were the final two tributes alive in the arena. They do a quick run down of the tributes and their training scores, like they do every year. But then I’m surprised by the next thing they show.

 _“They’re not bad looking at all, are they_?” I see myself say. I can’t believe that they’re showing this! “ _Especially Peeta_.”

I turn around and see that Peeta looks shocked by this. When he notices me looking at him, he gives me a questioning look as he tilts his head towards the screen. All I can do is blush and shrug my shoulders.

“ _Are you trying to get me in trouble, here? There’s nothing improper going on between us, as I’m sure that it would be frowned upon. However, there’s nothing wrong with having a little crush._ ” 

Peeta’s eyes widen at that.

_“There’s not,” Caesar agrees. “Especially when the target of the crush has captured the hearts of so many other girls.”_

_“Exactly. I couldn’t help myself, I’m only human_.” 

I don’t like the expression that Peeta has on his face right now and I do the only thing I can think of; I kiss him.

He kisses me back for a second before pulling away, but I relax considerably when I can see that he’s fighting a grin. He takes my hand again. W. H. Y. D. I. D. Y. O. U. D. O. T. H. A. T.

I flip his hand over and respond: I. L. O. V. E. Y. O. U. 

It’s his turn now and my skin tingles as he writes his reply on my hand. I. L. O. V. E. Y. O. U. 

The tribute’s interviews are next and Peeta’s the only one who has his entire three minutes shown. When it gets to the part where he confesses his love for me, Peeta hides his face in my neck. 

Unfortunately, he raises his head just in time to see the next surprise. His hand grips mine when the photo that Snow showed me in his presidential suite is aired for all of Panem to see. I should’ve known that the filmmakers would decide to include a picture of Peeta and me kissing on the roof, but I can truly say that I didn’t expect it. I sneak a look at him and I can tell by his expression that he’s even more flabbergasted about the picture than I am. The crowd, on the other hand, loved it and it seems to fire them all up again. 

However, the mood changes immediately when the picture is replaced by an overhead shot of the arena.

The scenes from the bloodbath are as terrible this time around as they were when it was happening. The death of the twelve tributes mostly are shown in rapid succession, the only exception being that of Clove’s. The filmmakers allow for the whole story of her death play out. From Peeta saving Rue by knocking the girl from District 2 out, to him running away as Misu charged at him, to Misu finally slitting the barely conscious girl’s throat. I know that it must be difficult for Peeta to be watching this and I give his hand another reassuring squeeze.

There’s the death of the girl from 8 and the girl from 3 by the Gamemaker’s fire and then it slows down to show the tracker jacker incident with Rue and the Careers. I get choked up watching him care for the hallucinating Rue, knowing that her end will be coming up soon.

More deaths and then it’s time for the feast. I’m horrified when I realize that they didn’t leave a second of Rue’s death out of this recap. I can feel the tension in Peeta’s body and I know that he’s trying not to cry. I am too, but I seem to be failing as the tears fall down my cheeks. 

I turn his hand over. I. A. M. S. O. R. R. Y.

His only response is to take my hand and kiss the back of it.

And then the final three tributes are at the top of the Cornucopia. I notice that the filmmakers seem to be avoiding showing any and all close-ups of the mutts and I can’t help but wonder why. I can’t say that I’m displeased by their decision, but it just strikes me as a little odd. At least, Peeta won’t have the opportunity to recognize his fellow tributes in the creatures, and I’m grateful for that.

Misu’s fall is shown in slow motion, and from several different angles. And then she disappears underneath the pack of mutts. Her screams echo through the speakers and I feel Peeta cringe at the sound.

I.T. I. S. O. K. A. Y. 

He shakes his head. I. F. A. I. L. E. D. T. O. S. A. V. E. H. E. R.

I grip his hand hard as I use to other hand to tell him what I think about that: T. H. A. T. W. A. S. A. G. O. O. D. T. H. I. N. G.

He shakes his head again but doesn’t elaborate and the screen goes back to the seal of Panem as the anthem begins to play. The lights go up and we are directed to stand. I nearly jump out of Peeta’s lap and help him out of the chair when President Snow makes his appearance.

Snow, who is followed by a little girl carrying the crown upon a cushion, makes his way to Peeta. The President’s eyes flicker down to our intertwined hands and I feel the goosebumps go all the way up my arms.

The crowd cheers as Snow takes the crown and places on the top of Peeta’s head, smiling at the newest victor. The President takes Peeta’s free hand and gives him a firm handshake. “Congratulations, Mr. Mellark. You truly are a Victor in every sense of the word.”

“Thank you, sir,” Peeta says, bowing his head in a show of respect.

Snow lets go of Peeta’s hand and gives me a small nod as he makes his way past me. “Miss Everdeen.”

“President Snow,” I respond, keeping my eyes on the ground until I know that he’s off of the stage.

The crowd continues to cheer as Peeta smiles at them. A chant of “Kiss her!” starts up; and after a short while of hearing it, he takes me in his arms and dips me into a very deep kiss. 

Caesar whistles at the sight and I can feel that I am blushing furiously when Peeta sets me on my feet again. He gives me a sheepish smile and I push him playfully; the crowd just eats up the whole display. Caesar has to shout over the audience to do his farewell and the reminder that Peeta’s final interview will be on tomorrow.

“Great show, Peeta. You really have a talent for this,” Caesar says as the three of us walk off the stage towards Haymitch and Effie.

“Thank you,” Peeta says in response, looking surprised. “That means a lot coming from you.”

Caesar puts his hand on the younger man’s shoulder and nods. “Believe me when I say that it was a pleasure to see you again.”

It is my turn to be startled. There was a sincerity in his voice that I knew had to be genuine. I can’t help but think that maybe I have underestimated Caesar all these years. Maybe he isn’t as unaffected as I had believed by having to meet all these children year after year, knowing that only one of them would come back. 

But then Caesar gives me a warm smile and I wonder if I hadn’t just imagined the whole thing.

The ride to the President’s mansion, where the Victory Banquet is taking place, goes by in a blur. The actual banquet? Not so much. Peeta spends the evening being pulled in every which direction by very important people. I spend it all by his side as I refuse to let his hand go for even a second but no one seems to mind us appearing as a pair. We oblige request after request to see us kiss and at one point I’m afraid that my lips are going to fall off from overuse.

I catch a smug glance from Taygen Torrklin and I immediately know that he is aware of what is going to occur tomorrow night. That’s when I realize that a large portion of the people here tonight probably know about it. Anxiety eats at me as I worry every time that we meet someone new that they are going to let something slip about it. 

But surprisingly, no one does and by the time that we all climb into the car to take us back to the Training Center, Peeta is as blissfully unaware of Snow’s vile demand as ever. I keep thinking that I will finally be able to spend some time alone with Peeta once we get back, but then I feel my eyelids start to droop and I realize that nothing ever goes the way I planned.

\---------

I awaken a few hours later to Cinna coming into my room. I sit up in bed confused, not knowing how I got there.

“Good afternoon,” Cinna says, coming over and sitting at the edge of my bed. “How did you sleep?”

“Fine, I guess,” I tell him, frowning at the idea that it‘s already past lunchtime. “What happened?”

“What do you mean?”

“The last thing I remember was sitting in the car coming back here from the Victory Banquet.”

“It’s actually quite sweet,” Cinna says, a teasing little smirk playing on his lips. “Apparently, you fell asleep in the car and Peeta carried you all the way up to your room. As you can see by the fact that you are still wearing what you wore last night, he was a perfect gentleman.”

I let out a curse and my friend raises his eyebrow at my filthy mouth. “Sorry. It’s just that I was hoping to spend some time alone with him.”

Cinna seems to study me. “You should have plenty of time for that after the interview. It seems like your trip home was delayed due to some mechanical issues with the train. It looks like you’re stuck here until tomorrow.”

I nod, not even attempting to appear surprised. “Then I am so glad that you’re here, Cinna. Peeta deserves to have a great final night in the Capitol and it’s up to me to make sure that it’s really special.”

“You need me to help you look spectacular, don’t you?” Cinna asks, but I know that’s not the question he wants answered.

“Please?” 

“Since you asked so nicely, how can I refuse?” He brushes his hand on my face. “One question, though. Just how special are we talking about?”

“As special as it can get,” I tell him.

“Are you sure?”

I’m not sure, but that’s not the only answer I can give him. “I love him. I really, truly do.”

He accepts that and I’m thankful for it. “You know, I’m all on my own today and the look we’re going for is a little time-consuming, so we probably won’t make it in time for Peeta’s interview.”

“Oh,” I say, feeling terrible about it.. “I guess that shouldn’t cause a problem; no one told me that I was going to be needed for it.”

“Maybe if I’m quick enough,, we’ll only miss a few minutes,” he tells me and I smile gratefully at him.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” he says and he begins to help me get ready. Cinna’s a master at creating a full look with hair and makeup. Before I’m even dressed, he’s made me look like a mature and seductive woman. Staring at my face in the mirror, I find it difficult to grasp that he’s made me look so completely different without making me look absolutely ridiculous.

Every stitch of clothing that I put on has been made specifically to call attention to the curves of my body, even my under things. Having only worn very utilitarian ones all my life, these new ones feel weird and constrictive and I have no idea how Cashmere can even stand constantly wearing things like this. It doesn’t help my situation that I have to constantly remind myself not to think about the fact that Snow helped with the design of them. 

The dress is tight and shows more than enough skin. It’s terribly uncomfortable but then one thing I can’t complain about is the color. 

“This is his favorite color,” I tell Cinna, and he nods at me indicating that he knew. “How did you find out?”

“That was easy. All I had to do was ask Portia,” he says as he fixes a few things on the dress. 

“It’s a beautiful color.”

“And you look beautiful in it,” he tells me, looking a little wistful. “Peeta is going to love you in it.”

I think of the alternative to Snow’s request. “Let’s hope so.”

As Cinna is doing the last finishing touches on my outfit, there’s a knock on the door. A second later, a redheaded Avox girl appears, carrying a little folded piece of paper on a silver platter. She walks over to me, presenting it. I lift it from the plate and then she gives Cinna and me a quick nod and leaves the room.

I open up the note and begin to read it.

“Who’s it from?” Cinna asks me, making sure that the little tendrils of hair are framing my face perfectly.

“Snow,” I tell him.

His hands stop moving immediately. “What does it say?”

I look up from the paper and meet his eyes in the mirror, sighing. “He’s prepared a meal for Peeta and me on the roof. He thought that it might help get things moving in the right direction.”

“That was awfully kind of President Snow,” Cinna says and his voice is very even and very deliberate.

I ball up the note in my hand. “And then he reminded me that the act was to be performed in my room.”

He snorts softly but doesn’t comment on it; he just grabs Peeta’s jacket and helps me put it on. “We don’t want you getting cold up there on the roof.”

“No, we don’t.”

He fixes the way the jacket hands on me and then steps back to examine the full look. “There, all done. If you hurry, you can probably make it to see the a good amount of the interview.”

I nod and rush out into the hallway, making my way to the sitting room where I know that the interview is taking place. I quietly slip through the door, not wanting to call any attention to myself. I go and stand next to Haymitch, making him jump when he finally notices me. Caesar and Peeta both turn in our direction at the little sound that Haymitch had made. 

Peeta’s face breaks into a huge smile when he sees me and I can’t help but to reciprocate. I give him a little wave and he blows me a kiss.

“For those of you who are wondering what just happened,” Caesar says, addressing the camera. “Peeta’s lady love just joined us. And I must say, she looks absolutely ravishing today.”

“She does. But I always think that she looks beautiful,” Peeta says with a wink in my direction. 

“Spoken like a true boy in love,” Caesar says, and he wipes at invisible tears. “Do you think that knowing she was waiting for you to come back helped you survive in the arena?”

He nods. “There was a moment there, right after Rue died…” Peeta stops and swallows a couple of time before continuing, “I don’t know, I was just tired of it all and was really close to just giving up. But then I thought about Katniss and I knew that she would be so mad at me if I did.”

“Well, I think we’ve all seen how good that girl is with a bow and arrow,” Caesar says, tilting his head towards where I‘m standing. “And I know that you most definitely don’t want her angry at you.”

“Plus, I had told her that I would fight for her,” he says, looking down at his hands. “I couldn’t let her down like that, especially since I knew that she wouldn’t keep her promise to me.”

“And what was her promise?”

“I don’t think I’m allowed to say,” Peeta says, trying to lighten up the situation. He looks right at me and asks, “Right?”

“That’s right!” I answer. “Sorry, Caesar, but I think you should move on from this topic.”

Caesar hams it up, pretending to be terrified of me. “Well, sorry Panem. You heard the lady and I am NOT going against her wishes.”

“You are a very smart man, Caesar,” Peeta says.

And the two of them have a laugh about that. “So, tell me, do you two have any plans for when you get back to District 12?” Caesar asks.

“Not really,” Peeta answers. “But we really haven’t had a chance to sit down and talk about anything.”

“I bet that you hadn’t realize how busy the life of a Victor was until you won!” Caesar says. “Am I right?”

“I certainly wasn’t expecting this,” Peeta answers. “I’m even more awed by Katniss making it all seems so effortless.”

I tune out the rest of the interview because I remain focused on Caesar’s question. What _are_ we going to do when we get to District 12? It’s more than obvious to me that we can’t just go back to the way things were before the reaping, but I don’t know how if I can be a girlfriend in my normal life. 

What does Prim think of all this? What about my mother? I hope that she approves of Peeta, and I can’t imagine why she wouldn’t. However, I know his mother hates me; what about the rest of Peeta’s family? And what of the rest of District 12? People from town and those from the Seam never had serious relationships with each other; except for my parents, of course, but look how well that turned out.

And then that’s when I remember that I’m overlooking one important fact. The truth is that I’m not a girl from the Seam any more than Peeta’s just a baker’s son. We are both Victors, and that fact alone separates us from everyone else. I meet Peeta’s eyes again and decide not to make any decision about the future right now. I’ll worry about what we’ll do in District 12 when we get to District 12. 

“So anything else you want to say, Peeta?” Caesar asks, snapping my attention back to them. Peeta shakes his head and Caesar continues,” In that case, let me say that it has been an absolute pleasure being on this fantastical journey with you and I can’t wait until we see you again for the Victory Tour!”

“Thank you,” Peeta says.

“But for now, I’m Caesar Flickerman with our newest Victor, Peeta Mellark, signing off,” Caesar says before blowing a kiss. 

And the interview is over. I wait at my spot as Peeta gets swarmed by people congratulating him and wishing him the best. My patience is beginning to wear out when Peeta finally steps away from the group and pulls me into a hug.

“I missed you,” he says into my hair.

“Are you going to say that to me every time you see me, now?” I ask, snuggling into his embrace.

“Maybe,” he tells me, moving away enough so he can look me in the eyes. “I always miss you when you’re not with me.”

I can’t help but smile. I take his hand and start leading him out of the sitting room. “Maybe I might understand what you’re talking about.”

We walk a few feet down the hall when I notice that Peeta is looking all around him as if searching for something. “What are you looking for?” I ask him, 

“Oh, I keep waiting for Haymitch or Effie to come running in and try to keep us from spending any time alone together.”

I laugh. “It did kind of seem like there was a plan to keep us apart. But I promise you that tonight there will be no interruptions. You did hear that our trip home was delayed until tomorrow, right?”

“I did hear that, yes,” he tells me and I have to commend him on being able to sound like he wasn’t disappointed.

“I was thinking that you and I could sneak away from everyone and have a private night, just the two of us,” I inform him. “How does that sound?”

“It sounds absolutely amazing,” he says, as he squeezes my hand. “So can I ask where you’re taking me, or is that a surprise?”

“You’ll see,” I say.

He stops walking and pulls me around to look at him. “You do look beautiful in that dress,” Peeta says. “But I don’t mind if you want to stop by your room and put on something more comfortable.”

I immediately press myself to him. My actions catch him by surprise and he nearly falls over from the force of my body slamming into him. He recovers quickly enough to avoid a spill but before he can say anything, my lips are on his.

When we part, Peeta has a goofy grin on his face. “Well, not that I’m complaining, but what was that for?”

“Because you are you,” I tell him, not knowing how else to explain. “And yes, this dress is horrifically uncomfortable but I want to wear it for you. It‘s your favorite color and everything!”

He laughs, his ears turning a little red. “Trust me, I noticed. I have never liked the color more than I do right now.”

I take his hand again. “Come on.”

When we get up to the roof, we find a small table for two all dressed up for us. An Avox, the same redheaded girl who handed me the note earlier, stands nearby, waiting for our arrival. When she sees us, she motions to the table.

“Oh! Yes, thank you,” Peeta says before he turns to me. “Katniss, you didn’t have to do all of this just for me.”

I sit in one of the chairs. “I know. And maybe all this isn’t _just_ for you.”

“Well then, it’s just perfect,” he says, taking one of my hands over the table. “Although, maybe we should’ve done it somewhere other than the roof.”

“Why?” I ask. “I have your jacket on, so I won’t be too cold.”

Peeta waits until the Avox disappears into the building before replying. “It was more concerned about the matter of privacy.”

“Privacy?” I repeat.

“I’m sure you didn’t miss the picture that they showed last night of us kissing up here,” he says. “Doesn’t it make you uncomfortable knowing that we could be surrounded by cameras?”

“There’s cameras everywhere in the Capitol,” I tell him and then wonder if I should have said that. “Listen, I know what you mean; but I want to make tonight special, so can we forget all about the Capitol and the Hunger Games and everything else but just us for a while?”

“I can do that,” he says as he stands up and leans across the table to give me a small kiss. “I love you.”

“And I love you,” I tell him.

The Avox reappears a few moments later with our first course. At first our dialogue stills with all the restrictions I had put on the topics but slowly it picks up. By the time we are finishing up our desserts, our conversation is flowing easily between the two of us. Dinner with Peeta had been so pleasant, that I had almost forgotten what the whole night was really about.

But all that comes rushing back as Peeta helps me up from my chair and asks, “Where to now?”

“My room,” I tell him as I force myself not to blush.

Peeta hadn’t been expecting my response as I can see his eyes widen in surprise and he lets out an uncomfortable chuckle. He rubs at the back of his neck nervously, before taking my hand. “Okay, then. Let’s go to your room.”

I lead him to my room and pull him inside. His nervousness has seemed to have increased exponentially. I scan the room once, wondering where the cameras might be located. And then I think about the Games and the seemingly millions of cameras they have and realize that I probably would have a shorter list if I focused on places that there _weren’t_ cameras.

But I refuse to let my resolve falter now. I have not let go of his hand yet, and I pull him along until I reach my bed. I can hear him gulp behind me.

“Katniss-”

I cut him off with a kiss, afraid that I might lose my nerve. “Shhh.. Just lie down and kiss me for a while.”

I can feel him tremble at that but when I glance at him, he doesn’t look like he thinks this is a good idea.

I let go of his hand and lay myself on the bed. “Please?”

It’s like his mind shuts off and suddenly, he’s lying on top of me, capturing my lips with his own. These are different than all the previous kisses we’ve shared. There’s a passion, a fire, a _need_ behind them that was missing from all the other ones. The longer we kiss, the more that there’s this warmth that spreads over my body. I can feel this hunger rise up in me and I lose myself in want.

It’s not until he shifts on top of me that I realize that I’m not the only one suffering from arousal. This seems to snap him out of his lust long enough to try to pull away from me. I keep my grip on him tight, refusing to let him go.

“Katniss,” he whispers. “Please, we need to stop.”

“Why?”

“Because if we don’t stop now, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop at all,” he tells me, looking away in embarrassment. 

“What if I don’t want to stop?” I ask him, trying to pull his head back to face me but he resists.

“Don’t,” he tells me. “Don’t say that. It’s too fast, it’s too soon. We have to stop this, right now.”

“Too soon?” I repeat incredulously. “Peeta, you’ve been in love with me since you were five! How is eleven years too soon?”

“Because that was _me_ ,” he says. “This is new for you and we are both still dealing with the arena and-”

“This isn’t new for me either,” I tell him, my voice cracking a bit. “You saved my life with the bread, remember?”

“And what, this is supposed to be repayment for that?” Peeta asks and tries to pull away from me again.

“No!” I exclaim. “Peeta! Look at me.”

He stops struggling, but it takes another few tugs from my hands to get him to defeatedly turn to face me. “What?”

“I love you and I want to be with you,” I tell him as our eyes meet. “I can’t claim that I felt this for as long as you have but why do you think that it must mean that I love you less than you love me?”

“I don’t think that,” he says, but the guilty look on his face tells me otherwise. “It’s just that this is too perfect to be real. I’m afraid that this is all a dream and that I’ll wake up back in the arena with Rue’s blood on my hands.”

“This isn’t a dream. I’m here and you’re here and all of this is real. Do you hear me?” I ask him. “Real.”

He searches my eyes and sighs. “Okay, but it’s still a big step and I don’t know if you’re ready for it.”

“Is it that you don’t want me?” I ask him, frustrated that he’s still putting up a fight. I get what he’s doing, but enough already.

“How can you even ask me that?” He gives me a deep kiss. “Just look at you! Of course I want you!”

“And I want you!” I tell him and somewhere, in the back of my mind, I wonder if Snow is going to edit all of this out or if he’s going to leave it in. “Why is it so hard for you to believe?”

“I just don’t want you to make a mistake,” he tells me. “I don’t want you to do it and then immediately regret being with me like that.”

“Peeta, I will never regret…” I pause for a moment, trying to find the right words. “I will never regret making love to you.”

Those words seems to work magic as his face suddenly softens and I can feel the tension leaving his body. He gives me a small kiss on the forehead. “Katniss, are you sure you want to do this?”

I look deep into the blue eyes of the boy who saved my life and say, “Yes, Peeta, I’m sure.”

What surprises me is that it’s not a lie.

\---------

The next morning, Effie bursts into my room and shrieks when she finds Peeta and me, still naked and wrapped around each other, in my bed. She leaves my room screeching about propriety and etiquette, stopping her rant long enough to tell the both of us that we have fifteen minutes to get ready to go to the train station.

I am completely mortified about being caught like this and try to pull the covers over my face. Peeta just laughs at me, tickling my side, a far cry from the hesitant boy from last night. I push him off me and really notice his nakedness for the first time. I look away, blushing furiously.

Peeta stops laughing suddenly. He takes my face and turns me to look at him. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re naked.”

“Yes, as are you,” he points out. “And as we were last night and you didn‘t seem to have such a problem with it then.”

“And I don’t have a problem with it now,” I assure him. “It’s just that I didn’t really _look_ at it last night.”

It’s his turn to blush. “Oh. Maybe we should get dressed. I’m afraid that Effie might actually leave us here if we are late.”

He gets up from bed and I force myself not to look away. “You’re beautiful, you know that?”

Peeta stifles a laugh. “That’s supposed to be my line.”

I shake my head. “I bet I’m a complete mess.”

He leans in and kisses me. “You’re wrong, Katniss; I’ve never seen you look more beautiful than you do at this moment.”

Peeta quickly puts on the clothes he wore last night as I pull out a clean shirt and a pair of pants. I’m braiding my hair when Peeta leans over and places a kiss on the top of my head.

“Tell me that you don’t regret what we did last night,” he says, looking in my eyes in the mirror.

“I don’t regret it,” I tell him. He smiles widely and gives me a quick peck before running back to his room to change into a fresh set of clothes.

When he’s gone, I examine my reflection in the mirror. I see the flush in my cheeks, a reminder of last night’s activities. I feel bad that I lied to Peeta when he asked me if I regretted it, but I couldn’t tell him the truth without explaining the whole situation to him and I was unwilling to do that.

The fact of the matter was that I did regret what I did last night. Not the actual act of making love to Peeta, though, but allowing Snow to film us. I sold something so amazing and private and I am disgusted with myself because of it. 

I understand that I didn’t really have a choice as I still believe the alternative would have been much worse for both Peeta and me. I can’t help but hate Snow for putting me in the position where I chose to have my first time tainted by Capitol filth. He ruined the most amazing moment of my life and there is nothing I can do to fix it. 

My loathing for Snow is currently fighting with my affection for Peeta for the paramount position in my mind. I can’t decide which of the two I feel more strongly. I can’t help the feeling that the two conflicting emotions are going to cause some problems for me in the future.

But I know that somehow, I am going to find a way to destroy Snow and his horrible Capitol, all the while keeping Peeta and everyone else I love safe. It’s not going to be easy, I know, but retribution is rarely simple and never effortless.

I must have lost myself in thought because the next thing I know, Peeta is poking his head into my room. “Hey, are you ready?”

“Yeah,” I tell him, crossing the room and taking his hand. “Let’s go home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the end. I am planning on doing a sequel, but unfortunately, life has gotten in the way. It seems as if things are finally settling down, so maybe I can get it done now. Thank you for reading.


End file.
